


mea culpa (through my fault)

by nightcereusss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Deviates From Canon, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Morgana's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), Parent Gaius (Merlin), Post-Episode: s02e13 The Last Dragonlord, Protective Arthur, Protective Knights (Merlin), Redemption, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting (Merlin), i love morgana, i will not abandon her, nor lancelot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28570542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcereusss/pseuds/nightcereusss
Summary: In a land of prejudice, and a time of despair … the burden of keeping everyone alive rests on the shoulders of a young boy. His name… Merlin.Merlin finally loses it when Balinor dies in his arms. While the warlock drowns in guilt and sorrow, the end game shifts. Watch out, once Merlin emerges...not even destiny can stop him.A story in which Merlin’s mantra is “Destiny, prophecies, and Kilgharrah can shove it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.”
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Leon/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 67
Kudos: 352





	1. my fault

In a land of ~~prejudice~~ myth, and a time of ~~despair~~ magic… the ~~burden of keeping everyone alive~~ destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a **young boy**. His name… Merlin.

~~~~~

The light of the sun slowly bled through the room. The said room is a mess. Unwashed tunics, books, candle wax stuck on the floor, and empty potion bottles lying all over the floor.

_It’s your fault._

Merlin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, trying to gather the will to get out of bed and do his chores. He hasn’t slept for weeks now, ever since the Great Dragon’s attack on Camelot. The cut in his arm in contact with his jacket itches. He didn’t even bother to change his clothes anymore. What’s the point? Every time he retires for the evening all he did was either lie on the bed and watch as the darkness slowly turned to the orange light of the daybreak, or sit in his bed and stare at the wooden dragon placed on top of his cupboard.

_It’s your fault that Balinor is dead. It’s your fault that your father is dead._

The first week was the hardest. He was plagued with nightmares of Balinor bleeding in his arms, the screams of people, and Camelot on fire. Gaius tried to comfort the boy, giving his most potent sleeping draught so that he can at least have the sense of peace that sleep can give. Merlin refused it, at first. He never realized that he became scared of drinking sleeping draughts, not until the first week of the nightmares. He was terrified that he might be taking the same paths with Morgana.

Morgana. He can see her everywhere. While doing the chores that Arthur would unreasonably give him, he can see her strolling and sometimes just standing in the corner of his eyes, tears streaming down her pale face. She was hurt. Hurt of his betrayal. Merlin poisoned Morgana. Morgana, who was trying to find someone to comfort her, to make her understand her magic because she’s terrified of it. Fierce Morgana who didn’t back away every time Uther makes a selfish decision. Sweet Morgana, who was protective of her friends, but was also lonely.

_It’s your fault that Morgana is dead. It’s your fault that friend is dead._

The nightmares that plagued him changed. Screams of druids, sorcerers, and even people who do not have magic being burned at the pyre. Morgana dying in his arms, gasping, confusion and hurt because of his betrayal. He can feel his heart being crushed to pieces every time he remembers her. He betrayed her.

Fuck, he betrayed her. If he only told her that he also has magic. That she’s not a monster who she thought she was. That she wasn’t _alone_.

And now she’s dead.

Merlin opens his eyes and recites his routine in his head. He sits up in the bed, feeling nothing but lethargic. The only thing that keeps him going is the routine. Fetch Arthur’s breakfast, get him ready for the day, put up with his insults and the chores that Merlin shouldn’t be even doing, fetch Arthur’s lunch, help Gaius in his routines or pick some herbs and other mundane tasks. The most important part of his routine is the last thing he does before he spends the night drowning in thoughts. A cut in his arm, to remind him that he’s still alive, that he needs to get a grip. He didn’t know when did this become part of his routine. The only thing he remembers is his first cut was the knife in his hand, and his blood dripping on the floor from his arm.

“Morning, Gaius.” He tries adding a cheer in his voice but fell flat in his earsGaius, currently grinding herbs, looks up from his work, an eyebrow rising. At first glance, he would think that the physician is judging his sorry state if it wasn’t for the worry in his eyes.

“My boy, you need to eat your breakfast. Did you get any sleep?” Gaius asks as he placed a bowl of soup on the table. Merlin moves to the table and tries to get a couple of spoons in his mouth and swallow. The food tastes bland nowadays, and he knows it wasn’t Gaius cooking at fault.

_Will is dead. Freya is dead. Morgana is dead. Balinor is dead. Gaius will die because of you._

“Don’t worry. I finally got few hours of sleep. I’ll be fine.” Gaius’ eyebrow almost disappears in his forehead in Merlin’s attempt of lying. Gaius knew not to push the matter though. No one spoke after that, the sound grinding and the spoon hitting the wooden bowl filling the silence.

_People will be better off without you._

He only ate half of it, the food setting heavily in his stomach. Merlin valiantly tries not to run out of the chambers just to escape the physician’s scrutinizing gaze.

_Arthur will be better off without you._

~~~~~

After the dragon was killed, things have been hectic. The people mourned for the loved ones that they lost during the attack and several others were injured, especially the knights who followed the Crown Prince in there supposed to be final stand. On the bright side, it didn’t stop the people from helping each other and Camelot is steadily recovering.

Half of the council found the situation as an opportunity to push their agendas, which irritated the prince to no end. Like this one adviser in the current council meeting, whose name has been forgotten by Arthur because his idiotic manservant keeps calling him “the old man who looks like he rose from the grave and just got here,” keeps on insisting to raise the taxes. Arthur makes a mental note to remove him from the seat once he is the king. Others are far more deserving than the greedy old goat. Like Merlin.

His attention drifts from the old man to the lanky boy, who is standing behind a pillar on the corner of the council chambers _. He’s thinner… and is that dark circles under his eyes?_ Arthur’s eyes narrow at the sight. _Now, who’s the one who looks like he rose from the grave and just got here?_

The council meeting ended earlier than usual and Arthur managed to convince the council that raising the taxes is a bad idea since people are still recovering and it may just result in an uprising (which earned him a glare from the old goat). His father looks older than his age and still heartbroken that his beloved ward is missing.

Morgana might be irritating sometimes, but he hopes that wherever she is, she’s far away from danger. Some of the knights have been ordered to track her. The king has also offered a handsome amount of money to anyone who can pinpoint Morgana's whereabouts.

“Prepare me a bath and dinner. Try not to drop my food this time.” Arthur said on his way out of the chambers, expecting Merlin to follow him.

“Sire?” Arthur stops at his track when he hears a different voice answering him. It was one of the lords. Arthur got even more irritated and turns back at the council chambers. Merlin is still standing there at the same spot earlier, who looks like his mind is elsewhere.

“Merlin!” His manservant didn’t even flinch when he shouted. Merlin just turns to look at him, his manservant’s eyes which look like trying to focus on his handsome (yes, handsome) face. “Get you lazy backside here!” Arthur bellows and starts walking towards his chambers.

“You are the worst manservant ever. How can you be distracted when you’re supposed to be attending to my needs?” he grumbles.

Arthur’s irritation flares when he didn’t get any response. He abruptly stops, and Merlin bumps on his back. The manservant actually _bounces_. He turns around in time to see his manservant land flat on his backside.

Worry replaces whatever insult forming in his head when he sees the manservant’s state up close.

Merlin looks like he lost half of his weight. There are dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow and his skin pale, but it’s the eyes that caught Arthur off guard. The spark in his manservant’s eyes is not there.

He hauls Merlin up and holds him at arms’ length. “Are you alright?” He asks while he’s inspecting his manservant from head to toe.

“I’m fine. Were you saying something, sire?” Merlin answers, his eyes staring somewhere else. The prince decides whatever was bothering Merlin, they can talk about it now in his chambers.

“Fetch me my dinner, Merlin. Ask the cook for extra portions. I’m famished.” Merlin finally looks at him and chuckles.

“Is there something funny, Merlin?”

“You might want to be careful sire, some of your tunics were starting not to fit you.” Merlin’s dazes off face turned to mischief. Arthur scowls at the comment, but a small part of him is pleased with the insult. At this moment, he realizes how much he missed their banter.

“I’m gaining muscles, idiot, not fat.”

“Sure, sire.” Merlin smiles, cheekily, but it looks forced. The manservant breaks away from his grasp to head off to the kitchen.

~~~~~

“Sit down.” Arthur gestures at the chair in front of him after the plates were placed on the desk.

“Huh?” Arthur rolls his eyes at Merlin’s confused reaction. “Can you at least for once follow an order for once? Sit.”

Merlin rolls his eyes but sits down. Arthur pushes a plate with a chicken leg, cheese, and grapes to Merlin. “Eat.”

“What’s next? Roll over?” Merlin pushes the plate back in front of him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Arthur, I am your manservant, not a dog.”

Arthur sighs and pushes the plate back in front of Merlin. “Just eat, Merlin. Look at you. You can’t continue serving me looking like half-dead.”

Merlin just stares at the food in front of him and pales. “What’s wrong?” Arthur asks, who become more worried because of Merlin’s reaction.

“I-I can’t eat this, Arthur.”

“Sure you can. It’s a food fit for a prince.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” Merlin’s question is a whisper. So soft, that if Arthur wasn’t paying close attention to his manservant, he wouldn’t have heard it. “I don’t deserve it,” Merlin says, who’s focusing intently on his lap.

Arthur fights the urge to grab the idiotic manservant in front of him and hug him. He couldn’t bear to see Merlin so miserable. “What happened? You know that you can talk to me, right?”

A glimpse of pain flashes on Merlin’s face, but it quickly fades to a guarded expression. Merlin picks up the chicken leg and starts eating it in small bites. Arthur takes it as a sign that Merlin isn’t ready to talk about it yet, so he reaches a plate of sausages and also starts eating it.

Despite the serious atmosphere earlier, the silence that followed is a companionable one. Arthur misses these moments. He hasn’t really spent time with Merlin lately, despite him being his manservant.

When Arthur finished his food, he is surprised to see Merlin’s staring at the window behind Arthur, with the half-eaten chicken leg still in his hand. The other food on his plate is left untouched.

Arthur aches at the sight in front of him. Merlin looks like a lost child. He wishes he can just shake it out of Merlin so that he can deal with it himself if that’s what it takes for Merlin to be back on his usual goofy self. He can’t do it, though.

Maybe Morgana can. She might be a harpy, but she’s a protective harpy when it comes to her friends. She might force them to say what’s bothering them, then she would do anything to get their friends back in their usual happy selves. All of the men in the castle, even his father was scared of Morgana. Even him, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Arthur chuckles at the thought and ignores the pain in his chest. 

“I miss Morgana,” Arthur says, placing his utensils down and reaches out for the wine pitcher.

Merlin suddenly snaps out of his daze. “What?” Merlin croaks.

“I miss Morgana,” Arthur repeated. He almost dropped the pitcher when Merlin suddenly stood up.

“Arthur, I need to return to Gaius’ chambers.” Merlin didn’t wait for the prince’s response and made his way towards the door but then he stops and walks back towards the desk and places the chicken leg back on his plate. “U-Uhm, I’ll clean it tomorrow, sire.”

“Merlin, what’s wrong?” Arthur grabs his wrist but he flinches when Merlin lets out a cry of pain. Arthur immediately let go of Merlin’s wrist. Merlin then hurries out of his chambers.

Arthur is left there, mouth hanging open and the pitcher still in his hand and his other hand still reaching out.


	2. cheer up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for the support! I didn't expect that people would actually like the first chapter. After all, I was drunk when I wrote this. I don't even remember that I published this. Imagine my surprise when the notifications start popping in my email account. 
> 
> I plan on continuing the story though. I hope you'll continue reading!

After that weird incident with the chicken leg (Arthur named it the chicken leg incident because can’t look at one without remembering Merlin’s pale face), his manservant has been more… compliant. But the thing is, Merlin is _never_ compliant. He _never_ backs down from Arthur’s insulting, and he _always_ complains about the list of chores that the prince gives him.

Earlier that week, Arthur asked Merlin why is he suddenly acting like a competent servant. Merlin, who was quietly folding his clothes just looked up and gave him a sad smile and said “Just trying to make myself useful.”

There’s something the way he said it that bothered Arthur to the core.

Arthur didn’t sleep that night.

Which is why Arthur is currently sneaking out of the castle after a miserable dinner with his father. Without Morgana to entertain or irritate his father (sometimes both much to Arthur’s amusement), all the attention falls to him. His father always gives him the sermon on how important it is to always be the best because he’s the Crown Prince or how dangerous magic is and why it’s important to cleanse the land of this abomination. He ate quietly, nodding absently while eyeing the roasted chicken in the middle of the table.

He dismissed Merlin early, giving him the reason that dining with his father always sucks the energy out of him and he just wants to sleep. Merlin gave him a disbelieving look but didn’t say anything.

Arthur tugs the hood down to cover his head while sneaking around the guards. The guards didn’t even notice him, too busy gambling. He commits the guards’ faces in his memory. This is probably one of the reasons why the prisoners seem to always escape the dungeons.

After he successfully sneaked out of the castle (Arthur is very disappointed with the guards), he made his way to the lower town. He’s going to visit Guinevere. After Morgana’s disappearance, Guinevere continued to serve in the castle but Arthur rarely sees her.

After dodging some knights on patrol, Arthur finally arrives at Guinevere’s doorstep. He was about to knock when the door suddenly opens, revealing Guinevere, who looks like she just got home, at the other side of the door. “Arthur! I-I mean, sire! What are you doing in here?” 

“Wait, how did you know it was me?” Arthur asks incredulously.

“Oh, uhm I saw you through the window and the blue cloak looks familiar. Merlin complained that you never gave it back. I also remember you wearing it when you were desperately trying to prove yourself in the tournament.”

When Guinevere realizes what she said, her eyes widened as big as saucers and she quickly adds “Oh! Not that Merlin is mad at you, I mean he just usually complains but not that he was actually bad-mouthing you or anything and you were _not_ that desperate-,“ Arthur winces at Guinevere’s rambling. He admits it was not his proudest moments and after that tournament, an inkling blossomed at the back of his mind that Merlin might be right. Arthur was, indeed, a prat.

Arthur clears his throat and Guinevere stops rambling. “I need to speak with you, Guinevere,” she flushes in embarrassment but steps aside. Arthur, confused by her reaction but chose to ignore it, enters the house.

When Guinevere closes the door, he suddenly remembers the passionate kiss that they shared in the tent before his fight to the death with King Olaf. Now, they’re both embarrassed. They just stood there, staring at each other. His eyes drift to her lips. Merlin might be the worst manservant ever, but at least he can be trusted to keep a secret. His heart cannot bear what will happen to Guinevere if others found out and reported it to the king.

At that thought, it felt like someone dumped a bucket of cold water in his head. “I need to speak with you, regarding Merlin,” his voice hoarse.

“Is there something wrong?” Guinevere asks, her voice full of concern. She gestures at the table and both of them take a seat. Arthur takes off his hood and clasps his hands on the table.

“Did you notice anything unusual in his behaviors lately?” he carefully asks. Guinevere frowns in concentration, trying to recall her memories.

“No, not really. We haven’t really much talk after…,” her eyes became glassy with tears. He reaches out to hold Guinevere’s hand. “Don’t worry. We will find her.” She nods, silently praying that her friend is safe.

“What of Merlin?” she asks, feeling guilty that she didn’t check up on her friend sooner.

“He doesn’t act like his usual self, Guinevere. I always tell him to shut up but I never expected that it would actually bother me when he actually shut his mouth. He doesn’t even complain about the tasks I gave him anymore.” A smile forms on Guinevere’s lips. Arthur cares for his manservant more than he would ever admit.

“Maybe he’s tired? The castle has been busy after the attack, sire. Aside from that, he also runs errands for Gaius and there are more patients than usual.” Arthur frowns. He actually forgot that he is also Gaius’ apprentice. No wonder he looks exhausted. Both of them might not be getting enough sleep from treating the patients.

“It’s not just that,” and he told her that chicken leg incident. “I know that he also misses Morgana. We all do,” he runs his free hand to his hair, “I-I don’t know how to comfort him, Guinevere.”

 _Arthur looks so young._ Guinevere thought. Despite the power and prestige, royals do not have the luxury to be themselves. They have an image to live up to and because of their status, a genuine friendship is something that cannot be easily acquired. Seeing Arthur worry about Merlin made Guinevere’s heart melt.

“Have you tried cheering him up, sire?” she asks. He shook his head. “It doesn’t work. I tried teasing him and playfully punching him in the arm but he just looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. I even tried on offering him food but he only ate a small portion of it.” Arthur grimaces when an image of the damn chicken leg flashes in his mind.

_“Gwen, I think the prince has indigestion,” Merlin said in one particular afternoon. Gwen almost dropped the laundry basket that she’s holding._

_“What?” she sputtered, not expecting the words that came out from her friend’s mouth. “Why are you telling me this Merlin?”_

_Merlin just rolled his eyes. “No, no, this one is special. He has emotional indigestion. Even if he doesn’t, he is the living proof that a human can have an emotional capacity of a fly.” He then grumbled something under his breath, something with the words “clotpole” and “not a stable boy.”_

Guinevere snorts as she remembered the conversation. Arthur looks at her, confusion on his face. “Sire, Merlin is a servant. He is not a knight, whom you can just casually punch in the arm. I am not sure about the food, but maybe he is not used to it?” Arthur sighs.

“I don’t think he’s just tired, Guinevere. I think Merlin is hiding something from me,” she purses her lips, missing the way Arthur’s eyes followed the movement. If he went to the trouble to come here and ask for Guinevere’s opinion, she thought, it might be something serious.

“It’s possible, sire, that Merlin wants to talk to you but he doesn’t have the opportunity,” Guinevere suggests.

Arthur had an epiphany. He grins at Guinevere. “I have an idea.”

~~~~~

Hunting.

Arthur Pendragon, the Crown Prince of Camelot, the most skillful warrior in the land, slayer of the Questing Beast and the Great Dragon, and most of all a brilliant strategist (self-proclaimed) who managed to turn the tide of battles and quests even when the odds are against them.

Hunting.

Arthur wants to bang his head to the nearest tree. The only reason that prevents him to do so is he needs to keep his dignity intact in front of his knights. How could he have forgotten that Merlin _despises_ hunting? How is he supposed to cheer him up when Arthur’s party is out here shooting rabbits or whatever animals that Merlin finds adorable?

When Arthur came up with the idea, he was only thinking of getting Merlin out of his usual duties and himself out of the castle so that they can talk. It was a pretty decent plan. However, when he asked permission from his father that he wanted to hunt, he didn’t expect the flash of fear on the King’s face. “Bring some of the knights with you,” the King said, his tone authoritative and with a clear message that he would not consider any other options. Arthur, infuriated that his plans were destroyed, almost shouted “Nevermind!” in his father’s face like a petulant child.

Arthur’s small hunting party is making its way back to Camelot. He looks up to the orange sky, slowly turning to black. Their catch today will please the king. Several rabbits and a deer. The animals today seem to be acting strange, not even noticing that the knights were already aiming at them. Usually when they hunt the animals were so alert that even before Arthur could raise his crossbow, the animals were already fleeing.

He hasn’t talked to Merlin either. He was also busy doing cooking and cleaning up after the knights. He glances at the manservant in his side, riding Llamrei. Llamrei is a gentle horse that somehow matches Merlin’s temperament. Merlin was quiet the whole trip.

“Sire? May I have a word with you?” Arthur turns to Leon. He gestures the rest of the party to keep moving while the knight and the prince slows their paces.

When they have a respectable distance from the rest of the party, Leon leans toward him and whispers, “Sire, did you see the cuts in Merlin’s arms?”

Arthur’s head snaps to look at him. It was so fast that it actually startles Leon and almost fell from his horse. “What?!” some of the knights look back at them. The prince schools his expression and raises an eyebrow. The knights sheepishly focus their attention on the road ahead.

He turns to the knight in his side, “What cuts?” he glowers, barely containing his fury. _Who did this to him? Is he being abused? Why didn’t he tell me?_ Arthur will run through the bastard with his sword. Images of Merlin being dazed and quiet flashed through his mind. Leon could hear Arthur grinding his teeth.

“I saw it when Merlin was preparing our lunch, sire. The sleeves rode up when he reached for his satchel across him. I didn’t manage to take a good look, sire, but the cuts look fresh.” Leon says worriedly. He might not be close to the manservant, but Leon knows Merlin is a good person.

Arthur stares at the back of his manservant. The prince is seething with anger. _Who dares?_ He grips the reins so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“Arthur,” Arthur turns back to the knight, who is not currently addressing him in the proper manner, which means he is speaking as a friend. “The cuts, they look like… they were self-inflicted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might be surprised that there is a Gwen/Arthur scenes here. Don't worry, Merthur is the end game. 
> 
> I love how Arthur is the only one to address Gwen using her full name. He also pronounces Lancelot's name at first as Lance-a-lot, Morgana as Mor-gANA, Gwaine as GawaIN and don't forget the fan favourite: merLIN


	3. sometimes, actions speak louder than words

Merlin has noticed that Arthur and even some of the knights have been giving him weird looks.

_They know what you did._

Whatever Sir Leon said to the prince on their way back, it riled Arthur up. They arrived in the castle and the people have been scrambling to get out of the storming prince’s way. Arthur looks so tense that he looks like he’s a bowstring that was about to snap. Even Uther, who was about to call him at the end of the hallway but took one look from Arthur’s face, immediately closed his mouth and ignored his son.

When they arrived in the chambers, Merlin quickly places Arthur's things in their proper place, eager to escape before he got the prince's attention. He can't deal with this right now. If Arthur shouts at him, he might cry.

Merlin jolts at the click of the lock. He turns around to see Arthur’s back at the door. “Merlin,” he automatically straightened his back at Arthur’s tone. “I-I…. uhm...,” Arthur chews his lip, clearly not knowing how to proceed.

_He’s going to sack you. He knows. He will leave you. He’s better off without you._

“Y-yes, sire?” Merlin tries to hide the panic in his tone. Arthur walks towards him and the distance between them dissipates. When he’s standing right in front of the manservant, he didn’t expect Arthur to gently reach for his proprietary hand. Not breaking the eye contact, Arthur slowly brings Merlin’s hand to his chest.

Merlin wants to pull his arm back and run away. One of his several _secrets_ , a word that he had come to despise, is in danger of being exposed. He wills himself to calm down, and he softly asks, “Arthur, what are you doing?” his voice unexpectedly hoarse.

There is something in Arthur’s eyes that took Merlin’s breath away. It’s a side of the prince, a side of _Arthur_ that he rarely sees. Arthur picks his words carefully, “I stand by my words that I said to you the other night, Merlin. You can talk to me,” his tone gentle.

Arthur continues to hold his hand in his broad chest, and he carefully tugs the sleeve covering Merlin’s arm. Merlin gasps and pulls away, but he’s not fast enough. Arthur saw it.

The cuts were deep, the angry red lines overlapping each other. Arthur suspects that there’s more of it in Merlin’s arms, hidden by the jacket.

“Merlin, why are you doing this to yourself?” Arthur asks in concern. Merlin takes a step back, bile rising in his throat.

“Please, don’t look at me like that,” tears start to form in Merlin’s eyes.

Arthur’s gaze pierces through him. Merlin feels like Arthur can see through the very depth of his soul. It’s almost like he could see all the things that Merlin locked away deep inside him. Things that are threatening to come out in his mouth at this very moment, out of pure guilt.

He expected Arthur to call him out a girl or girl’s petticoat, but the prince just asks “Like what, Merlin?” and takes a step forward.

“Like you actually _cared_!” startling Arthur at the bitterness of his tone.

“I _do_ care for you, Merlin! You’re not just my manservant. You’re also my friend!”

“You don’t understand, Arthur,” Merlin burst into tears.

Arthur’s body moved before he knew it.

Arthur pulls Merlin in a tight embrace. The manservant makes a startled noise and tries to push the prince away. The prince only tightens his embrace.

“Then please, make me understand. I can’t bear to see you like this,” Arthur buries his face in Merlin’s neck. His heart is pounding so hard that he can hear it in his ears. He doesn’t know if it’s concern or fear for the manservant, but Merlin in his arms _felt right._

Merlin wants to melt right there. Staying in Camelot and serving the prince made him live in constant fear. He never thought that he would feel safe in Arthur’s arms.

Merlin is about to return the embrace, but then something or someone catches his eyes. Morgana is standing at the corner of the room, regal and beautiful in her green dress and tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly, it was all too much. It felt like the room is closing in on him. He can’t keep up with this anymore.

Merlin pushes Arthur so hard that the prince fell on his back and skids across the floor, “I don’t deserve your kindness! I never did! I keep failing and losing everyone that I cared about,” he screams hysterically. His knees buckle under him, and he collapses on the floor.

Arthur’s stunned face morphed to confusion. He sits up and moves to crouch in front of Merlin. He was about to place a hand on Merlin’s shoulder when he hears those words, words that he didn’t expect from his manservant.

“I killed Morgana,” Arthur's jaw drops. Merlin visibly swallows and reluctantly continues, “I killed Morgana. It was either her or Camelot. She was immune to the sleeping curse because she was the source.”

Arthur, his eyes wide in disbelief, unable to process the new information. He grabs Merlin’s shoulders, shaking him as if the act will make Merlin spill everything. “Why?! What do you mean she was the source?!” anger in his tone.

Merlin winces at the hard grip, “She was used by Morgause. There was no other way to stopped the curse but to eradicate the source,” Merlin’s gaze drifts to the raven-haired woman behind Arthur, who is now standing closer to them, reminding him of how Morgana gasped for breath, on how she clung to him silently asking him why he did it.

“How do you know all of this?!” Arthur’s grip will leave bruises, but the prince could barely think.

_Arthur will kill you. He would see you burn in the pyre. A befitting end for someone like you._

Merlin stares at Arthur, committing his _king’s_ face to his memory. The golden-crowned boy who shines like a sun, the sky in his eyes, and a pure heart who puts other’s lives before his own. This might be the last time that he would be allowed to be this close to Arthur.

It scared him. The idea of not being at Arthur’s side.

But Merlin is so _tired._

He doesn’t want to keep secrets anymore. He wills himself to spit the words out despite the bells ringing in alarm in his head, “I have magic,” and he let his eyes flash gold.

Arthur recoils and scrambles away from the manservant. Thoughts and his father’s lectures flood in his head after hearing the confession from the trembling manservant in front of him.

_Sorcery. Magic. Magic is evil._

And because Arthur is his father’s son, he instinctively reaches out for his sword in his side, only to find it wasn’t there.

Merlin didn’t miss the action. His golden eyes slowly turned back to the bright blue eyes he was born with.

He is in front of a sorcerer, defenseless. But this is Merlin, his bumbling idiotic manservant who couldn’t hurt a fly. Every being of Arthur is debating on how to react to this confession, but one emotion stood out among the rest.

_How could Merlin betray him?_

Arthur slowly stood up. He looks at Merlin, his face devoid of any emotion. He coldly says, “Leave.”

“Arthur, please, let me explain. I was born with it. I only used my magic for you, for Cam-,“ he’s on his knees now, begging for Arthur to _listen_. He reaches out for Arthur, but the prince takes a step back, hurt and confused.

“LEAVE!” Merlin flinches. Arthur looks like he’s about to punch him in the face. Merlin forces himself to stand up, wills himself to stop crying, and quietly leaves the chambers.

_Arthur hates you. You’re not needed here anymore._

Merlin grips his arm, the one that Arthur was holding earlier. He grips it so hard that he can feel the sleeve dampen.

~~~~~

Some things suddenly make sense now. How they always come out alive despite the chances, the branches coming out of nowhere, and Arthur’s miracle recoveries. He paces in his chambers, trying to calm himself down before he destroys another piece of furniture.

Why is he still alive? There were so many chances that Merlin could have killed him.

Arthur then remembered the time when he almost killed his father. Merlin stopped him from doing something that he would regret for the rest of his life. _Is he trying to manipulate me?_ But if Merlin truly wants to manipulate him, he wouldn’t have stopped him from killing the king. Arthur could’ve been the king by now with Merlin controlling him, like a puppet.

But he didn’t.

If Merlin wanted to cause damage, he would have done it a long time ago. He could’ve sabotaged the treaties when the dignitaries came to Camelot.

Yet he didn’t.

A memory of Merlin drinking the poisoned wine flashed in his memory. Arthur clenches his fist. If Merlin wanted to betray Arthur from the start, his idiotic manservant would not risk his life for him in the first place.

_I was born with it._

Arthur walks toward his desk and slumps in his seat. It sounds impossible, but Arthur begins to reconsider the possibility. How many people were born with magic? How many people died because they of something didn’t have a choice?

Shame flooded in his system. How could he even consider Merlin trying to manipulate him?! Time passes as Arthur tries to read Merlin’s actions from his memories. His anger dissipates but the hurt is still there.

He stands up and perches himself to the window, breathing in the cold air of the night. He gazes down at Camelot, the kingdom that he would inherit. An image of Merlin walking down the streets, greeting the people, and playing with children flashes through Arthur’s mind.

They need to talk. There are questions that only Merlin could answer. Arthur was adamant about making Merlin leave earlier because he needs to clear his head. Even if Merlin was a traitor, his stomach churns at the idea of Merlin sentenced to burn in the pyre.

Merlin is a sorcerer. What Merlin didn’t say out loud, he showed it in his actions.

And his actions clearly show where his loyalty lies. _To Arthur._

Because sometimes, actions speak louder than words.


	4. things in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is fed up, Merlin is hurt, and someone makes an appearance.

Arthur stirs groggily as the morning bells ring. He opens his eyes to see a figure moving near his desk. As his blurry vision focuses, he sees a servant with an unfamiliar face, arranging the plates in his desk.

“Who are you?” he asks, eyeing the boy with suspicion.

“George, sire, at your service.”

He props himself with his elbows and shoves the panic rising in him. “Where is my manservant?”

“Merlin cannot serve you today, sire. Gaius sent him to collect some herbs this morning,” Arthur frowns. That’s probably the worst excuse he ever heard. _Is he running away?_

Arthur scrambles out of the bed to get some clothes, only to find it has been laid out at the foot of his bed. He grabs the red tunic and starts to get dressed. George moves to help him, but he bats his hand away. “You’re dismissed.”

The servant looks like Arthur has just eaten his firstborn child in front of him. “Sire? Have I done something to displease you?”

“No, no. It’s…” he waves his hand around the room, “…impressive. Don’t worry about it,” Arthur claps George in the shoulders and quickly leaves his chambers, leaving the poor servant confused.

Merlin confessed to the murder of the king’s ward. That alone is enough to get him executed, not to mention that Merlin has magic. _He said that Morgana was the source of the curse, and Morgause used her. But why did Morgause take her?_

He halts in his steps as a pang of fear shots in him. A memory flashed in his mind, of Morgause cradling Morgana in her arms. _The undead knights suddenly dropped dead, and people start to regain their consciousness while Morgana was...._

He swallows thickly as the bile rises in his throat. He can’t believe that Morgana is _dead._

_Was she aware that she was being used? Is that why she can’t give me an answer when I asked how she’s the only one awake? But Merlin said that Morgana drank some potion which made her immune to the curse._

Arthur knows, more than anyone, of how she despises most of his father’s decisions. But to conspire against the king, against Camelot?

_No, it’s possible that Morgause manipulated Morgana, just like how the sorceress manipulated me on almost killing my father._

There’s only one person who can answer his questions. Maybe two. He has a feeling that Gaius knows of Merlin’s magic. It’s obvious to everyone in Camelot the relationship between the physician and his ward. _Merlin is like a son to him. It’s also no secret that Gaius used to practice magic too._

He makes his way toward the physician’s chambers. When he arrives in front of the chambers, he raises his hand to knock but then pauses. “This is ridiculous, why am I nervous?” he chides to himself.

The door suddenly opens, and Arthur certainly did _not_ make an undignified sound. Gaius arches an eyebrow. “Is there something I can do for you, sire?”

“Oh, uhm…” he clears his throat, trying to cover his embarrassment in getting caught off guard. He frantically racks his brain for an excuse. “D-do you have something for a headache?”

“Of course, sire. Come in.” he beckons the prince to get inside the chambers and starts to rummage the shelves.

Arthur checks the hallway to confirm they were alone. After that, he closes the door behind him and takes a seat in one of the chairs. Unsure of which question to ask first, he went along with the obvious one. “Where is Merlin?”

Gaius tenses for a moment before grabbing a small vial and places it in front of Arthur. “I asked him to gather herbs, sire.”

Arthur chews his lip and surveys the chambers. His eyes land on a room, the door half-opened. _Merlin’s room_. Merlin has always been messy, but it’s not the chaos in the room that caught his attention. He abruptly stands up and walks towards the room.

Arthur flings the door open and inspects the empty vials on the floor. He picks up one, noting that the remaining liquid smells familiar. _It’s sleeping draught._ He looks down again and almost swears, “Just how many did he take?” he mumbles under his breath.

He then notices a dark stain on the floorboards. He kicks away the things around it and crouches to take a closer look.

Dried blood.

“Gaius, tell me what’s going on." He slowly turns to look at the physician. "Please, just tell me what’s going on with Merlin.” His voice hoarse, but the plea was clear.

The physician slumps in one of the seats, his shoulders sag in defeat. “I-It’s not my secret to tell, sire.”

Arthur pauses before he quickly moves to the chamber’s main door and locks it. He then takes a seat across the physician. Arthur takes a deep breath and looks at Gaius dead in the eye.

“Last night, Merlin told me that he has... magic.” His sentence trails off to a whisper. Gaius glances nervously at the door as if the guards will come bursting in and take him away. The physician then stares back at Arthur, searching for something in his face. Gaius’ face morphs into an unreadable expression and gives a small nod.

“He also told me that Morgana was the source of the curse, and he killed her.” Arthur chokes out. Gaius’ face crumples and gives another small nod.

“It was the only way to stop the curse, sire.” Gaius says in a small voice and continues. “Merlin had no choice. It was either Morgana or everyone in the castle.”

“What about the undead knights? Was Morgana’s life tethered to them?”

“No, sire. Morgana was the source of the sleeping curse only. The Knights of Medhir is a different matter. Only a sorcerer powerful enough to enchant an animation spell on them can wake them. Breaking the spell is the only way to stop them.”

“And how was the animation spell broken?”

Gaius shifts uncomfortably in his seat, knowing that he’s treading on thin ice. “When Morgause released them from their enchantment.”

Arthur’s eyes narrow at the physician. “Why did she do it, then? Why did she take Morgana as well?”

There were only three people who knows of Morgana’s heritage. Uther, Gaius, and her half-sister Morgause. Gaius knows that everything would be much simpler if the king would just stop hiding things from his children. The young prince deserves to know that Morgana is… _was_ her sister.

This matter, however, is between the king and the prince. Gaius sighs, “I cannot tell you that, sire.”

Fury lashes in Arthur’s system. He slams the table so hard that everything on the table jumps. “Damn it, Gaius! Just tell me! Just stop! Stop lying to me! Stop hiding things from me! Why do people always keep me in the dark?!” he presses forward and snarls at Gaius’ face.

Gaius did not faze, not even a little bit. If he is, then he’s doing an impressive job of hiding it. “Arthur,” Gaius says in a cool, even tone to avoid aggravating Arthur even further. “I’m so sorry, I really am. But it’s not my secret to tell.”

“What about Merlin? Did he leave Camelot?!” At the mention of his ward’s name, Gaius’ shoulders drooped even further. The physician shakes his head. “I really sent him to collect herbs, sire.”

Arthur takes a deep breath before slumping back to his seat. Gaius opens his mouth to say something but hesitates. Arthur, clearly fed up, growls at Gaius. “Out with it, Gaius.”

“I’m worried about his wellbeing.” Some of the tension leaves Arthur’s body. “After the recent events, he’s become more... unreachable.” The way Gaius says it makes him look frailer than he is.

“H-have you noticed the cuts?” he asks carefully. Tears start to form in Gaius’ eyes, and the physician slowly nods.

Arthur clenches his hands under the table. _Why did you not stop him then?!_

“I tried talking to him,” Gaius says, sensing Arthur’s question. “When his nightmares started, I tried to coax him into talking to me. He keeps pushing me away. I tried to help him by giving him sleeping draughts.” Gaius glances at Merlin’s room, a forlorn expression on his face. “At first, I thought it worked. The nights were silent again.”

“But then I noticed that his state was not getting any better. One night, I risked a peek in his room.” Gaius swallows before continuing, “I saw him lying in his cot, staring silently at the ceiling, no hint of sleepiness in his face. The next day, he would just greet me and thank me for the potion. I realized that he would just drink the sleeping draught in front of me so that I would stop worrying.”

 _That idiot_. Arthur grinds his jaw. Merlin is a massive _idiot_. Why is Merlin trying to keep all the suffering to himself?!

“I thought that pushing the matter will make him withdraw to himself even more.”

Because Arthur cannot handle emotionally charged situations, he tries to joke. “Looks like you have to work on your sleeping draught recipe.” But then winces as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Gaius just lets out a bitter laugh.

Silence fills the room for a moment. Arthur breaks it first. “Is he leaving?” Gaius startles at the question, but he answers gently. “No, Arthur. I sent him on an errand to clear his mind. I didn’t know what happened last night, but he wasn’t in the condition to serve you.” Gaius smiles at him. “But I know Merlin is not going anywhere.”

“I’m confused, Gaius.” He mumbly admits, looking down at his lap. “Why is he even here? Why is he serving me?”

“I believe Merlin is the only one who can answer that,” Gaius says softly. “But please do me a favor, sire.”

Arthur’s head snaps up to look at the physician. “Please give him a chance to explain.”

Arthur contemplates for a moment and nods. Gaius lets out a sigh, visibly relaxes.

Gaius doesn’t need to ask what Arthur wants to do with Merlin. He trusts Arthur, and he’s sure that he will not harm Merlin. It’s a good thing that he’s different from his father. If anyone could help Merlin, it’s Arthur.

After all, they were two sides of the same coin.

Both of them jump at the same time when someone knocks at the door. They briefly share a panic look before Arthur gets up, schooling his expression while Gaius wipes the tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh!” the boy takes a step back, clearly not expecting the prince to open the door. “Sire,” he averts his eyes to the floor. “The King has summoned the council.” 

“We’ll be there,” Arthur says and rubs his eyes tiredly. The boy nods and quickly leaves. Gaius stands up and grabs the vial. He hands it to Arthur, who gratefully downs it in one go.

~~~~~

The council is in chaos by the time Arthur and Gaius arrived. The king is standing behind his seat while a knight, Sir Gareth, is standing at the end of the table near the door. There’s blood on his armor and a gash on his forehead.

“Your majesty, we were ambushed on our way back from our patrol in the southern borders. There were eight men, but one of them was a sorcerer. We were a candlemark away from Camelot when we were attacked, my lords. I was the only one to escape.”

“That’s close to one of the villages, father,” Arthur interjects, taking a step forward as the dread floods in his system.

There once was a time when the prince was particularly bored and went along with Merlin to collect herbs. Most of it can only be found on the outskirts of the surrounding villages. Arthur is grateful for a moment that Merlin has the magic to protect himself, but then realizes it’s even more dangerous for him to use it.

The king makes a small noise of agreement. “What of the others?” Arthur asks the knight.

Sir Gareth briefly lowers his head in dejection. “Sir Edric and Oldof are dead, my lord.”

Arthur and Gaius share an alarmed look, the physician clearly thinking about the same thing. _Merlin is in danger._

The king gravely says a moment later, “Arthur gather the knights and leave as soon as you can. They shouldn’t be allowed to roam on this land.”

“Yes, father.” Arthur swiftly moves towards the door.

“Arthur,” the king calls out, and the prince halts in his steps. The king adds icily, “Capture the sorcerer alive.”

~~~~~

Things are not going well for Merlin. A group of bandits jumped on him while he was distracted by the droplet of blood forming on his finger where the plant has pricked him.

Merlin notices the swords on their hips. They were all dressed in dark clothes, with weapons adorning their bodies. Some of the swords, however, looks out of place and eerily familiar.

“Oof!” he lets out a grunt of pain as one of the bandits kicked him in the ribs. He curls at the ground, trying to lessen the brunt from breaking his ribs. He’s no use of Arthur if he’s dead.

_He wants you dead, anyway._

And maybe that’s why he didn’t use his magic yet. He just lets the blow coming. His eyes prickle as another one kicks him in the head.

“Nothing but weeds in here!” Merlin hears the clink of vials and wooden boxes dropping in the ground.

“Fucking knights of Camelot.” Merlin’s head snaps up to the one who said it and finds a tall, bald man with a scar on his face. He’s twice Merlin’s size. “Acting like their shit smells sweeter than the most while they kneel to that monster.” The bald fellow spits on the ground and mutters something under his breath. The shrub near Merlin suddenly combusts in flames.

_Great, another vengeful magic-user._

He mentally slaps himself in the forehead as it dawns on him. The swords look familiar because Merlin has _polished_ them. It looks the bandits have been attacking the patrols. Merlin hopes that whomever those swords are, they made it back safely to Camelot.

“What are you looking at, you little shit?!” The bald guy marches towards him and pulls his hair. Merlin lets out a strangled cry and tries to grab his captor’s wrist to lessen the burn in his scalp.

Something whizzes through the air, and the next thing Merlin knew the bald guy was on top of him with an arrow embedded on the side of his neck.

He almost pukes at the sight.

At the corner of his eyes, another one drops dead on the ground. He wriggles out of the dead body while the remaining bandits frantically search the ground, trying to find their attacker. “Who’s there?!”

More arrows flew in the air and hit their targets. The remaining bandits start to scramble, and two figures emerge from the trees, dropping their bows. A giant man, wearing a brown tunic with torn sleeves that shows off his muscular arms that can probably crush an apple by simply flexing on it, grabs two of the bandits who were running in the same direction and bashes their head.

The other figure looks awfully familiar, especially with that white long sleeve tunic. He was still the same man he met a few months ago, except that his hair was shorter. He swiftly disarms his opponent and hits the bandit on the back of his head with the hilt of his sword.

He was so absorbed watching them that he didn’t notice the last one creeping behind him. The bandit hauls him by pulling his neckerchief, choking Merlin in the process. The bandit holds a knight in his throat, and the two men in front of him freeze.

“T-throw away your weapons!” the bandit screams near Merlin’s ear. Merlin winces at the temporary buzzing. While the bandit's focus is on the two, he closes his eyes and grabs the arm holding the knife in his throat, and zaps the bandit with his magic.

The bandit screamed again and drops the knife. However, the bandit manages to push Merlin so hard that he loses his balance and falls.

On the brief moment that Merlin was falling, he curses himself for being an uncoordinated idiot.

A shot of pain sears through the side his head.

His vision starts to blurry, and a moment later he hears a grunt and a choked off sound. Merlin feels a set of hands cradling him. “Merlin!”

He smiles at the man and manages to breathe out the name of his friend, “Lancelot," before the darkness engulfs him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? 
> 
> There's a lot of easter eggs in this chapter. I hope you find all of them!


	5. not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets comfort from a stranger and reunites with his old friend, Lancelot.

_Merlin finds himself standing in the middle of a vast meadow, the sea of purple hyacinths stretching to the horizon. He looks up to the clear sky, full of its purple and orange hues, swirling into a devastatingly beautiful picture._

_“Merlin?”_

_He turns around to see Will, looking ragged and a speck of dirt in his face after a day’s work, smiling at him with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Merlin grins and breaks into a run to hug his old friend, but his steps falter as he notices a dark splotch in Will’s chest, getting bigger with every step Merlin takes closer to Will._

_“Merlin!” Will calls out brightly._

_Merlin couldn’t take his eyes away from the blood seeping through the clothes. The horror creeps in as it slowly dawns on him._

_Will is dead._

_Merlin looks up to see his friend’s face, only to find Will still smiling at him. Will is now wearing chainmail with a tunic, the clothes he was wearing when Merlin last saw him. Merlin takes a step forward and Will’s body drops to the ground. He freezes in his spot._

_“Merlin?”_

_His head snaps at the side when a feminine voice calls out his name. It’s Freya, wearing the purple dress Merlin stole._

_Other people begin to appear in the meadow calling his name. There were bandits and assassins. He even spots Muirden, Sofia and Aulfric, and Aredian in the crowd. Merlin watches in horror as more people begin to appear in the meadow, calling his name._

_It’s all the people that he killed._

_A hand wraps in his arm and tugs him on the ground. Suddenly, the scenery around him changes. He’s back in Essetir, in the forest. Merlin finds himself sitting on the ground, cradling his father. Balinor’s body was pale, his eyes glassy, and Merlin can feel the weight of his father’s dead body in his arms._

_Something moves in the corner of his eyes. He looks up to see Mordred, his fists clenched at his side and staring at Merlin with an expression of pure contempt._

_“You failed us, Emrys.”_

_In the blink of an eye, he’s back in the city of Camelot. At the center of the square is a giant pyre, the fire burning viciously as the people. In the middle of it is a corpse blackened beyond recognition. Uther is standing on the balcony, the crown in his head glistening, with a satisfied smirk on his face._

_Beside him is Arthur in his knight uniform, glaring at him._

_Merlin takes a step back, unused to be the focus of the prince’s ire. His eyes automatically drop to the ground, but then he notices the corpse in the pyre was no longer a corpse._

_It's Morgana, screaming for someone to help her. Tears are streaming down her face as she tries to get away from the fire creeping closer to her. The people of Camelot gather around her, watching solemnly as the king’s ward burns._

_“Morgana!” Merlin cries out._

_Merlin tries to run to the pyre, to grab her and get her out of there, but his body doesn’t comply. Merlin screams as he forces himself to move, but all he can manage is to reach out his hand to Morgana._

_Morgana turns to him, a sudden serene expression on her face as if she’s not being burned to death. She whispers, but the words reverberate to his soul._

_“Why did you not help me?”_

Merlin wakes up, startled. He can’t breathe. He helplessly reaches out to find something to anchor him back to reality when a hand settles on his back, between his should blades, and starts to move in soothing pattern. 

A deep voice fills the air. _A lullaby,_ he thinks. The lullaby is thick of emotions, of love and yearning. He can feel vibrations from the solid chest that he’s pressed against to. He looks at the man singing. The hand keeps gently stroking at his back, as a mother does to her child, in an attempt to calm him.

And it does.

After the man finishes singing, he softly says, “It’s just a nightmare.”

It took a moment for Merlin to remember that this man is a stranger, and pushes him away. It’s the giant who was with Lancelot. The man moves back to give Merlin some space. A shy smile forms on the man’s lips and scratches the back of his head, which looks ridiculous considering his build but also oddly endearing.

“Sorry, I’m not a singer,” and the man actually _blushes_. Merlin blinks at the random comment before he answers, feeling the burn in his throat, “N-no, it’s okay. I appreciate the gesture. Thank you.” Merlin says hoarsely.

Merlin bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, his ears now red in embarrassment. Guessing from the burn in his throat, Merlin had been screaming in his sleep. Lancelot’s friend just saw Merlin in his worst moment. 

At the thought of his friend, Merlin looks around. They are still in the forest, but there are no dead bodies around. There are three horses tied in a three, and Merlin guesses that one of them must be from the bandits earlier. “Lancelot is retrieving your things. He’ll be back soon.” The man supplies. “I’m Percival,” he adds and holds out his hand to Merlin.

“I’m Merlin,” he tries to lift his arm to shake Percival’s hand but winces at the movement. As if on cue, his body begins to throb in pain.

“Luckily nothing was broken, but you took a bad beating, and you hit your head on a rock earlier. Do you feel dizzy?” Percival asks. If Percival saw his cuts in his arms, the man didn’t show it on his face.

Merlin gingerly touches the side of his head and feels a bump already forming. Merlin says drily, “No, I think my thick head saved me from a concussion.”

Percival grins at Merlin. “Lie down and try to rest, Merlin. I’ll wake you up if Lancelot arrives. You look like you need some sleep.” Merlin looks down to where he’s sitting. It’s a red cape, no doubt belonging to a Knight of Camelot.

Merlin lies down, ignoring the pain in his ribs. He did not try to sleep. He doesn’t want to dream again.

So instead, he slightly turns his head to Percival, who found himself a comfortable spot not far from Merlin, his back resting on a tree. “That lullaby, I never heard of it before. Who do you sing it to?”

A sad smile forms on Percival’s lips, and his eyes grew distant, “I used to sing it to my child before she was born. My wife thought it was silly, but she never stopped me from doing it.”

Merlin’s heart clenches when he hears the fondness mixed with raw pain in Percival’s voice. He knows that he shouldn’t prod the topic further, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“What happened to them?” Merlin asks gently.

Anger flashes briefly in Percival’s face before it turns to a blank expression. “Cenred’s men raided my village. They accused us of planning an uprising against the king. They… they killed them.” Percival closes his eyes and thunks his head back against the tree.

A tense silence stretches in the clearing for a moment. Merlin mentally curses himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

“I get nightmares too. Every single night.” Percival whispers. He opens his eyes and glances down to Merlin’s arms.

Merlin turns his head away and stares up to an interesting branch on top of him. “How do you deal with them?” he asks quietly.

Percival lets out a pained laugh. “I don’t. But… I try to remember that I’m not alone.”

Merlin bites his lower lip until it draws blood. “It’s hard,” Merlin admits.

“I know.” Percival acknowledges softly.

And somehow, those two words were enough. Merlin finds a gap between the leaves and branches and sees the sky, blue and clear. Merlin smiles a little, remembering how Gaius doesn’t make him clean the leech tank lately, and even the dinner Arthur offered before he told him about his magic.

_Maybe… maybe I’m not alone._

The pain in his heart eases a little at the thought.

~~~~~

The sky is orange by the time that Lancelot arrives. Merlin sits up and grins at Lancelot. Lancelot crouches and makes a move to embrace his friend but stops. He settles on carefully patting Merlin in the shoulders. Merlin doesn’t miss the action, “I’m not fragile, you know,” he huffs.

Lancelot just offers him a sheepish smile before handing him out his satchel. “I tried to find all of your things. Sorry, it took me a while. “

Merlin inspects its content. The bottles and small boxes were neatly organized in the bag. Merlin’s eyes lit up. “You found all of them! Thank you.”

“How are you, Merlin? Maybe we can use some of the herbs for the bruises.” Lancelot says worriedly.

“Kind as ever,” Merlin mutters. Percival appears behind Lancelot and playfully slaps Lancelot’s back. “That he is.”

“I need to get back to Camelot,” Merlin says, sadly. Lancelot gives him a disapproving look but nods anyway. “We’ll escort you on the way back,” Lancelot says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Percival and Lancelot quickly prepare the horses, and shortly afterward, they’re riding to Camelot.

Despite their slow place, Merlin still winces at every jolt of the road. Lancelot and Percival share a silent conversation with their eyes, and Percival sets his horse to move faster. Lancelot then maneuvers his horse to ride beside Merlin.

“We heard about the incidents in Camelot, my friend. I was worried when you didn’t write back to my letters.” Merlin droops a little in his horse. He stopped replying to Lancelot’s letters when Freya died.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I-I’ve been...” Merlin tries to finish his sentence, but couldn’t. Lancelot stares at him, his eyes full of patience and understanding. 

“Thank you,” Lancelot says sincerely. Merlin gives him a confused look. “Why are you thanking me?”

“On behalf of Camelot.” He then quickly adds, “It must’ve been difficult for you, dealing all of it on your own. But thank you, my friend.” Lancelot adds, he smiles warmly at Merlin. Merlin halts his horse, and tears start to pool in Merlin’s eyes.

“B-but you don’t know w-what I did. I-I poisoned M-Morgana, Lance. I k-killed her. I re-released the Great Dragon. A lot of people died because of me, Lance!” 

Lancelot is shocked but carefully keeps his expression in check. He trusts Merlin with his life. The manservant is loyal to Camelot, and he wouldn’t harm a single soul unless he had no other choice. He knows that there’s more to the story. Lancelot stops his horse in front of his friend and climbs down.

He moves to Merlin and offers him a hand. Merlin hesitantly takes it and also climbs down the horse. Lancelot then pulls him into an embrace, and something inside Merlin finally snaps.

All of the emotions that he keeps pushing down for the last few weeks spill out as he tells everything to Lancelot. About the people he cared for and died in his arms, the decisions he made, and his confession to Arthur.

Merlin is expecting to be pushed away, the same reaction he had been given when he told Arthur his secret. He deserves it. But as he continues his story, Lancelot only embraces him tighter. As the orange sky darkens, the two friends just stand in the middle of the forest, Lancelot embracing Merlin and Merlin clutching Lancelot’s tunic.

When Merlin finishes his story, Lancelot whispers into his ear. “I’m so sorry, my friend, that you’ve been carrying this burden alone.”

Lancelot still thinks of him as a friend. Lancelot is still there, despite everything Merlin has done.

_I’m not alone._

Merlin cries harder, and he feels his magic spiraling out of his control. His eyes turn to gold, the magic tingling in his hands. Merlin knows it’s dangerous, but he didn’t hold it back. He lets his magic to rush into the ground. The earth starts blooming the most beautiful flowers Lancelot has ever seen. He looks around in awe.

This is Merlin. As bright and wonderful he is, he needs to live in secret. Lancelot silently prays to the gods that one day, Merlin doesn’t have to hide anymore, that he could freely show the world who he truly is.

“Destiny has been cruel to you. I’m sorry, Merlin, and thank you for everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a full chapter about Lancelot and Percival's first meeting, but I decided to remove it. I'll probably publish it as a side story later on. Thank you for the kudos and comments!


	6. misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin starts healing, and Arthur is being an idiot.

Merlin’s eyes are puffy and red from all the crying that he did. He feels ashamed for crying like a girl, but Lancelot never teased him for it. Even Percival, who mysteriously disappeared while Merlin was having an emotional breakdown, didn’t say anything. The gentle giant just gave him a reassuring smile.

Merlin feels a little better.

While riding back to Camelot, the small group exchange stories. They told him how they first met. Three weeks ago, Percival found Lancelot when he found Lancelot unconscious and wounded near Percival’s village. Percival carried him home, and nursed Lancelot back to health. In exchange, Lancelot offered his services to Percival’s family just until Percival’s wife gives birth and their babe is a few months old. But the raid happened. Ever since then, the two have been traveling together. When they heard about the attacks in Camelot, Lancelot decides to check up on Merlin.

Merlin swallows the bile in his throat as he guesses the rest of the story himself. How could Cenred’s men kill a pregnant woman? Or a babe? Merlin is not sure, but he doesn’t ask. Not when the wound is still fresh.

“Merlin, there’s a rumor spreading around. Cenred has been enlisting men for his army,” Lancelot says warily.

“Some of the rumors say that a sorceress seduced him,” Percival adds.

“A sorceress?” Merlin shuffles nervously on his saddle. “Yes, the rumor varies from village to village, but the most famous one is a golden-haired beauty whisper to his ear every night to conquer the lands as a gift to her,” Lancelot continues.

“It sounds absurd if you ask me. The army, however, is alarming. We’ve seen some groups of mercenaries ourselves riding towards Cenred’s castle,” Percival says the name Cenred as if it’s a curse word.

“Sometimes, rumors have a truth in it. It’s just muddled. I would exercise caution, my friend,” Lancelot says.

The detail about the hair is specific. There must be a few people who actually saw Cenred with whoever this supposed ‘beauty’ was. Merlin mulls it over. “Does it say any other details about the sorceress?” Merlin asks.

“There are others that say sorceress is hideous but uses an illusion to trick Cenred. Some say that there was no sorceress at all, since no one caught a glimpse of a woman near Cenred lately,” Lancelot answers.

 _Morgause_ pops into Merlin’s mind. She could’ve been mistaken for a man if she was wearing her armour. However, rumors aren’t enough to make assumptions. Maybe he’s getting paranoid after everything that’s ever happened. Merlin sighs.

When they’re about a mile away from the castle walls, Merlin starts to get nervous. He doesn’t know what awaits him beyond the walls, now that Arthur knows his secret. Merlin halts his horse, and the others were quick to follow.

“Lancelot, Percival, thank you for saving me earlier and bringing me back here safely.” Merlin feels guilty for making his friend worry. Lancelot is still banished from Camelot, and he’s not even supposed to be here.

As if the man knows what he’s thinking, Lancelot guides his horse side to side with Merlin’s and pats his shoulders. “No problem, Merls. I hope that you won’t forget to reply to my letters.” Lancelot says jokingly.

“I’ll write to you, I promise.” Lancelot looks satisfied at his answer. Merlin turns to the other man, “It was nice meeting you, Percival.”

Percival nods at him and smiles. “It was also nice meeting you, Merlin.”

Merlin is reluctant to go and looks like Lancelot as well. Merlin takes a deep breath and turns towards the direction of the castle wall, and finally urges his mount to go.

Merlin waits a moment before looking back. Sure enough, Lancelot and Percival were still there. They are waiting for Merlin to pass through the castle wall safely. Merlin smiles and shouts, “Percival! I think your voice is rather good!”

He couldn’t see Percival’s reaction, but he could hear Lancelot’s surprised laughter echoing through the forest.

~~~~~

Surprisingly, no one bats an eye when Merlin walks into the castle. Apart from a few concerned looks because of his ragged state and his puffy eyes, and some weird looks when he flinches every time he passes by a guard or a knight. But so far, no one has screamed Sorcery! and dragged him to the dungeons.

“Merlin!” He flinches at the sound but then relaxes when he recognizes the voice. He turns around and sees Guinevere rushing over him.

She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, Merlin." She closes the distance and touches his cheek carefully. “What happened to you? We were worried sick!”

“You were?” Merlin asks incredulously. Gwen glares at her, and Merlin shrinks a little. “Of course, we were! Hurry! Let’s get you to Gaius.” She drags him, as fast and gently as she could, towards Gaius’ chambers.

Arthur and Gaius both jump in their seats when Guinevere barges in. Arthur shots up from his seat when he sees Merlin trailing behind her. “Where have you been?!” 

Merlin flinches and lowers his head to hide his nervousness. His whole body is thrumming with restless energy, his head telling him to run. He swallows hard but keeps his feet firmly on the ground.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, sire,” Merlin says feebly without meeting their eyes. “Oh, uhm, I have your herbs, Gaius.” He removes the strap of his satchel from his shoulders, ignoring the pain screaming from his movement, and hands the satchel to Gaius.

Gaius’ eyebrow shot up, while Arthur sighs. “You’re really an idiot, Merlin.” Arthur crosses his arms over his chest and taps his foot impatiently on the floor. “Well? I asked you a question.”

Arthur can feel Guinevere’s disapproving gaze, but he doesn’t care. Not when he spent the whole afternoon scouring the forest, looking for his idiotic manservant. Tracking the bandits was the easiest part of Arthur's day. They found three of them alive, gagged, and tied up in a tree, while the others were not so lucky. They never found who subdued them but after interrogation, they found out that it was two men. Arthur’s blood ran cold when he pictured Merlin’s body lying dead somewhere in the forest.

“I, uh,” Merlin starts to chuckles wryly at his predicament but then winces in pain. “Ow.”

Gaius seems to guess what happened, and he calls out to Gwen. “Gwen, can you get me the salve?” Gaius then manhandles Merlin and forces him to sit on the patient’s cot. Arthur remains standing on his spot, observing quietly.

Gaius lifts Merlin’s tunic carefully. His upper body is covered with ugly shades of purple and yellow. Merlin groans as he raises his arms for Gaius to remove the tunic. He maneuvers his arms discretely to cover the cuts in his arms while Gaius begins to check for any broken bones. Merlin glances nervously at the people around him.

Arthur’s mouth thins at the sight. “Who attacked you?”

“Some bandits jumped on me while I was picking herbs,” Merlin mumbles under his breath. Gwen puts the salve at the table near Gaius and hovers near Merlin’s feet, concerned at the state of her friend.

“Don’t lie to me, Merlin,” Arthur says irritatedly, his arms still crossed over his chest.

“What? I’m not lying!”

“And how am I supposed to know that you’re not?!”

“Why would I lie about this?”

“I don’t know, Merlin. You tell me.” Arthur snaps back. Merlin flinches, guilt overriding his senses.

Gwen, sensing there’s a bigger issue at hand, darts her concerned gazes between the two. She decides to give them privacy and clears her throat, but only Gaius looks in her direction. “Merlin, please take care of yourself. I’ll visit you tomorrow.” Gwen then turns to Arthur and curtseys, “Sire.” She then hurries out of the chambers and gives one last look to Gaius, silently apologizing for leaving him alone with the two.

Gaius sighs, and continues doing his work.

“The bandits were already subdued when we arrived. Tell me, were there two men? Are they from Camelot and threatening you not to talk?”

“No, no, you seem to have a misunderstanding. The bandits attacked me, but those two men saved me.”

“And who were they?” Arthur asks skeptically.

“Good people who just happened to pass by, _sire_.”

As much as he likes Merlin’s cheek, now is really not the best time to test Arthur’s patience. “The knights are searching for them.”

“What?! Why?! They’re good people! They saved my life!”

“Merlin, there’s only two of them. They killed five bandits and stripped the remaining three on a tree. One of them is even a sorcerer. They’re dangerous.”

“Look, if you want me dead, then can you just stab me and be done with it. Don't drag other people into this,” Merlin says spitefully. Arthur recoils at the words, and even Gaius looks alarmed.

“Where did that come from?!”

“You seem unhappy that I’m alive, sire,” Merlin says drily but unable to mask the hurt in his face.

Before it even gets out of hand, Gaius intervenes. “Sire, Merlin, please calm down. Merlin, you are going to tell us the whole story of what happened in the forest. After that, sire, my patient needs at least a day’s rest.” Gaius looks at both of them pointedly. Arthur takes a deep breath and nods to Gaius.

Gaius turns to Merlin, and Merlin calms himself down before starting. “I was picking herbs near one of the villages when the bandits attacked me. They want money. When they didn’t find any, they got violent, and that’s when my rescuers arrived.” Merlin carefully leaves out his friends’ name. “The next thing I knew, a bandit was on top of me with an arrow in his neck. More arrows were fired, and the rest were knocked out. They carried me away from the scene when I lost consciousness.”

“I’m fine, Gaius. I only have a bump in my head.” Merlin says before Gaius starts poking him in the head.

“Why didn’t you use it?” Arthur asks carefully.

“Use what?”

Arthur just looks at him irritatedly. “You know…” He trails off and raises his hand and wiggles his fingers.

Oh. Arthur looks stupid for a moment, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t for his confusion in Arthur’s genuine curiosity. He glances at Gaius nervously. He hasn’t told Gaius yet that he told Arthur. Gaius just cocks his head to Arthur’s direction, encouraging him to answer.

Nevermind. Merlin gulps. He will be receiving a long lecture later. “I can’t.” He answers softly.

Arthur looks unsatisfied with the answer, but before he could ask more questions, Gaius cuts him. “Sire, I believe my patient needs rest.” He says it in a No nonsense, I’m the physician here voice. Arthurs lips thin. He angrily strides across the room. Merlin’s gaze never left the prince.

Arthur pauses in front of the door, and without looking back he says, “Oh Merlin? I have a knighthood to bestow the day after tomorrow. Don’t forget to clean my armor.” And the prince flees the chambers as if it was on fire.

Merlin’s eyes begin to well up as hope surges in his chest. He’s not sacking me. Gaius just looks at him fondly. “Rest, Merlin.”

~~~~~

Everything seems to be peaceful after that. Merlin still serves Arthur, while Arthur continues to annoy the hell out of him. There was no serious conversation after their argument in Gaius’ chamber. Sometimes, Arthur would ask him a question about certain events, and Merlin would answer truthfully. Other than those occasions, Merlin never dared to mention his magic, nor use it in front of Arthur.

Merlin can feel the uncrossable distance between them. Merlin knows that he got off lightly, considering that he still killed the King’s ward. To make matters worse, Arthur still doesn’t know that he’s a dragonlord and he’s responsible for almost destroying Camelot.

Every time Arthur asks something, Merlin can’t help but get anxious. He keeps expecting guards will drag him and burn him the pyre. It never happened. Arthur would just give him a noncommittal sound, and his mind would drift off somewhere after Merlin answers his question. Merlin usually leaves him alone after that and gives him time to think.

Despite the distance and the subtle shift in their relationship, their interactions were mostly the same. Surprisingly, Arthur doesn’t throw things at him anymore. When Merlin asks for a reason, Arthur just shrugs and changes the topic by giving him another chore. He might be an idiot, but he’s been serving the prat for more than two years. He knows that it's Arthur’s way of thanking him. That man doesn’t really know how to handle emotions.

Gwen visits him once in a while, bringing him flowers. He would laugh and tease Gwen if she was courting him, and Gwen would blush and stammer, even though they both know that Gwen’s heart already belongs to Arthur.

Nightmares still plague him. There are times that he would spend the night not sleeping, afraid of seeing their faces again. He never talked about it to anyone except Lancelot, but it seems like Gaius is a gossiping old man because somehow Arthur and Gwen also know that Merlin has trouble sleeping (Merlin got angry when he discovered about it, but he can’t stay mad at Gaius).

At least Merlin is sure that Arthur knows about his nightmares because in the rare moments that he would fall asleep while in the middle of doing a chore at Arthur’s chambers or Gaius’ worktable, no one disturbs him. He would often wake up with a blanket draped over his shoulders.

The fear is still there. His anxiety of getting burned in the pyre and losing Arthur’s trust would cause him to overthink things, and it would sometimes spiral out of control. However, every time he would get the urge to cut himself, Lancelot and Percival’s words echo in his head.

He would cry, but he always drops the knife.

The King is getting more desperate, and with Uther’s bloodlust for sorcerers renewed, no one dared to even breathe the word “magic” in Camelot. Uther increased the patrols to scour the land, not only to find Morgana but to also capture sorcerers that he can burn.

Arthur still participates in the search, despite knowing the truth. Merlin always comes along with him. He just spends the entire ride deep in his thoughts of what ifs and whatnots. Merlin will never forgive himself for poisoning Morgana. But every time he sees Arthur laughing with the knights, Gaius tending to his patients and Gwen giggling when they talk about someone, Merlin knows that he would do anything just to keep them safe.

~~~~~

The season changes and life goes on. The air is getting colder. The green, lush leaves turn to shades of yellow and orange. It’s been three months since Morgana’s disappearance.

Servants are busy running around in the castle for the last-minute preparations for the Feast of Samhain held tonight. The mood in the castle is somber. Everyone but the king has lost hope in finding Morgana.

Merlin rushes to Arthur’s chamber, carrying the prince’s shirt and breakfast. He trips, but he manages to raise both of his hands to balance the tray and the shirt while he landed face-first on the floor. Thankfully the prince is still sleeping. Or so he thought.

Arthur is already dressed and sitting in his desk chair, watching Merlin with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his lips. Merlin grimaces. Arthur is not going to let him live this one down.

“You’re dressed.” Merlin moves aside the crumpled papers in his desk and places the tray. He turns his back to Arthur under the pretense of putting his shirt to the cupboard and gingerly checks if he has broken his nose.

“Yes, Merlin. I'm not an idiot.”

“Are you sure about that?” Merlin mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I asked, what were you doing?”

Arthur picks up the quill and twirls it in his hand. “I am trying to write a speech.”

Merlin goes around the desk and stands beside Arthur. He bends over to take a closer look at the paper and quickly reads the draft. “You’re overdoing it. Just keep it simple and relatable to everyone.” Merlin points a sentence in the paper. “See this one? It sounds redundant. You’ve already…” He trails off when he turns to see Arthur looking at him strangely.

Merlin raises his eyebrow in confusion. “Is there something on my face?”

Arthur snaps out of his daze. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, inching away from Merlin. Merlin notices and steps away from the desk, trying to hide his hurt at Arthur’s action. Arthur is still wary of him.

“Polish my boots, Merlin,” Arthur says focusing intently on the paper on his desk.

“What? I already polished them!”

“Then go polish my armour.”

“I did those yesterday too!”

“I don’t care. You’ve always done a lousy job anyway.” Merlin bites his lip in annoyance but follows the order.

“Prat,” Merlin grumbles as he picks up the cloth and starts polishing the chest plate. _Again._

“I heard that, Merlin.”

“You’re supposed to.” Merlin shots back without looking at Arthur, completely oblivious of Arthur’s attention at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lancelot and Percival will be back soon :) 
> 
> What do you think of this chapter? Thank you for the kudos and comments! :D


	7. wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's drunk and Arthur faces a test of his beliefs.

The mood of the feast is more subdued than usual due to Morgana’s absence. However, once everyone starts to get drunk, noises fill the hall as they started telling each other fond stories about their deceased loved ones.

Merlin is standing quietly behind Arthur. He has no one to talk to since Gwen doesn’t serve Morgana anymore, and the king’s servants are old and don’t like him very much (he can always feel their eyes boring to his back every time they see him). Every once in a while, he takes small sips from the flagon of wine when no one is looking.

No one really pays attention to him, not when the King is wasting away his sorrows and finishes his cup every after few minutes. Surprisingly, Arthur only drank one cup. When Merlin was about to fill his cup again, he covers the goblet with his hand and shakes his head.

The small sips became larger gulps. Does Arthur think that he will poison him? Merlin knows that Arthur has every reason to be wary of him, but it still hurts. When the alcohol starts to take effect, Merlin doesn’t even try to hide that he’s drinking from the flagon that he’s supposed to serve to the prince. He even thought Uther caught him right at the moment he was tipping the flagon in his mouth, looking at him in amusement. Merlin is not sure, must be his imagination.

When the King leaves, everyone lets loose. Knights are dancing on top of the tables while the others cheer them on. The servants standing on the sides earlier are now mingling with the people on the court. He snorts when he sees Sir Leon awkwardly smiling and subtly distancing himself from a woman trying to flirt with him.

Merlin staggers when a wave of dizziness passes. He feels a hand cover his elbow. “Merlin, you can retire for the evening.” Merlin turns, his eyes blinking at the bleary silhouette of a person standing in front of him.

Someone tries to get the flagon in his hand, but Merlin hugs it closer to his chest. He wants to get drunk. He wants to momentarily forget all of his mistakes in life, but someone is trying to take away his only solace for the night. And it’s probably the best wine he ever had.

Merlin must have said it all out loud because he hears someone sigh. Everything seems blurry. He didn’t know what happen but the next thing he knows he’s being dragged inside a room.

~~~~~

Arthur manages to push the manservant inside his chambers before Merlin says anything that could get him executed. Merlin blinks at the new sight. “Woah, how did I get in here?”

Merlin’s face suddenly morphs to a delight. He holds out the flagon and raises it above his head reverently with his two hands. “Magic!”

Arthur quickly clasps a hand over Merlin’s mouth, straining his ear to pick up if there’s movement outside his chambers. There was no one in the hallway when they entered the chambers, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. After a few heartbeats, Arthur releases his breath that he’s been unknowingly holding.

“It’s cold.” Merlin shudders, and with a grace of a newborn deer, he goes in front of the fireplace. He plops to the floor and gets the flint. Merlin tries to strike it again and again but only ends up scraping his hand. “Gods, this idiot,” Arthur mumbles while snatching the flint to start the fire himself.

He threw a couple of logs before checking on Merlin. Arthur grabs the flagon just as Merlin is tipping it to his mouth. “Noooo…” Merlin pouts, his hands still reaching out like a toddler asking to be carried. 

“Here.” Arthur hands the goblet he found earlier to Merlin. Merlin beams at him, thinking it was wine, and enthusiastically drinks it. Arthur waits for a moment. Merlin lowers the goblet, eyeing it with distaste and his nose crinkles adorably. “This is not wine.”

“No, _Mer_ lin. It’s called water. Ever heard of it before?” Arthur sits next to his drunken manservant. He smirks, feeling the eyes of his manservant on him, and he casually takes a swig. Merlin gawks and drops the goblet on the floor. “No fair!” He cries accusingly and tries to get the flagon back.

“No.” Arthur firmly says. “Trust me. I’m saving you from a miserable morning.” Arthur chuckles and pushes Merlin’s head away using one hand. Merlin scowls at him, and he scoots away from Arthur. He brings his knees up and hugs them, his eyes focusing on the flames.

“I should have guessed that you couldn’t hold your alcohol. Did you spend your whole time in the tavern sober?” Arthur teases.

“I don’t have time to go to the tavern.” Merlin grouses.

“Gaius says you’re always in the tavern.”

“I’m busy saving your royal bottom, prat.”

“Oh.” Arthur pathetically answers, feeling unusually embarrassed. He rubs his nape, trying to recall how many times Gaius used that excuse, and adds it to his mental list of the things that Merlin has done for him.

 _Gods_. Maybe he should give Merlin a raise.

Arthur glances at Merlin, who has drifted off on a world of his own. His manservant would sometimes look like this. Solemn and weariness in his eyes makes him look older than his age and has high, unbreachable walls around him. Arthur can’t see that rude, bumbling, idiotic boy that has called him an ass years ago.

Merlin has proved himself over and over again after he revealed his magic to Arthur. One irritating thing that he learned about his idiotic manservant is that Merlin never shies away from the danger. He had seen Merlin in action whenever some unfortunate people try to attack them while on their patrol. This idiot always puts the lives of the others before his own, and it never ceases to infuriate Arthur. Merlin lets others take the credit. He just silently watches from the sides, simply contented that everyone is alive.

If his manservant thinks that Arthur didn’t see him whispering quick spells and flicking his hands to trips the bandits over branches, then he’s an idiot.

His respect and admiration for his manservant grow every time this happens, and Arthur _understands_ it. Arthur will do the same, anything to protect Camelot and his people. The odd similarity in their actions somehow makes it easier for Arthur to accept that his manservant has magic, and his reminded again that Merlin doesn’t have a single evil bone in his body.

Arthur wants to ask Merlin about the whole story. About his magic, what made him think that it was a good idea to come to Camelot, and why he keeps risking his head by staying here. He really wants to, but a part of him thinks that he just caught Merlin in one of his lowest moments and somehow forced him to tell his secret. But Arthur has noticed that Merlin has been walking on eggshells around him, and he really doesn’t want to upset Merlin.

He doesn’t like the idea that Merlin keeps secrets from him. Is he that really that untrustworthy? But then he remembered the way he reacted, how he reached for his sword when Merlin told him. How Merlin’s expression turned to pure fear.

He never wants to see Merlin look at him like that again.

“When you said you were born with it…” Arthur hesitantly asks, but before he could finish his question, Merlin turns to him and makes a loud shushing sound.

“Not supposed to talk about it. Bad men will come and get me.” Merlin whispers to him. When Arthur frowns, Merlin moves his body to sit facing Arthur’s direction. “You’re upset.”

“I am.” Arthur feels sick at the idea of Merlin being executed.

“Are you hungry again?” Merlin asks innocently. 

“Wha- Wait- what do you mean _again_?” Arthur scowls, his earlier fears already slipping out of his mind.

“Do you want to eat meat pie?”

Arthur stares at him for a moment, his mind trying to catch up to the unexpected turn of conversation. “Are you going to get it now? Because that’s a bad idea.”

Merlin giggles and cups his hands together and mutters a spell. “ _Gewyrc an lif._ ” His eyes glow, the blue turns to molten gold. Arthur tenses for a second then relaxes. This is the first time that Merlin used his magic in front of him. Thankfully, Merlin didn’t notice, his focus on his hands as he carefully opens them. 

Small, glowing, blue butterflies flutter out of his hands. The butterflies leave a trail of blue sparkling dust as they elegantly flap their wings up, up, and up in the air. Arthur’s breath hitches at the dazzling sight. Merlin’s eyes twinkle, his eyes beginning to revert to their original color, as he watches the butterflies.

“This is not a meat pie.”

“No, but it’s better.” Merlin holds out a finger, and his eyes follow a butterfly that slowly lands on it. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Merlin whispers to him in awe. A strange feeling of warmth and protectiveness spreads to Arthur’s chest. Arthur stares at Merlin who looks so happy and contented and there’s no problem in the world.

“It is,” Arthur answers softly.

Merlin’s attention snaps to Arthur. Arthur stops breathing as Merlin starts to slowly lean forward, his gaze predatory. Arthur’s heart begins to pound faster, his head feels like there’s a small person living inside it running around, and screaming _‘What the hell is going on?!’_

Merlin supports himself by putting his hands on Arthur’s side, his face so close that Arthur can see the small flecks of gold surrounding Merlin’s dilated pupils. Arthur lets his gaze venture on his manservant’s face. His long eyelashes, the dark circles around his eyes that are slowly disappearing, his well-defined high cheekbones. Arthur’s eyes finally drop to his plush lips.

Suddenly, Merlin is back to his old spot, and an infuriating grin plastered on his face. “Wine!” Merlin gleefully shouts as he drinks. It took a moment for Arthur to snap out of his daze and realize that Merlin grabbed the wine out of his hand while he’s distracted by his manservant’s face.

Arthur runs a hand on his face, confused and annoyed by the situation. _What was that?! What the hell is wrong with me?_ Barrages of questions fill his mind as he tries to rationalize why he keeps noticing these little details about Merlin.

“Give me that!” Arthur wrestles the wine from the manservant in a rather petty manner. “You’re not allowed to drink any alcohol from now on, especially if I am not with you. Do you understand?” Arthur doesn’t want anyone to see Merlin in his drunken state. Merlin just blinks at him owlishly and tilts his head.

“Do you understand?!”

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

“Why?”

“I am the Prince of Camelot! And you will do so as I say.”

“…Why?”

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stomp his urge to hit Merlin with the flagon. Unfortunately, he needs to say sober, or else no one will guard Merlin. He might run off and carelessly use his magic. _Why did I bring him here in the first place?!_

~~~~~

Merlin groans as the bright light hit his face. He tries to roll over to block the sun but then feels a giant lump at his side. Thinking it was his things, he starts to push and kick the lump out of his bed. An arm suddenly drapes over his waist, and a disembodied voice grumbles, “Stop squirming.”

Merlin startles awake at the familiarity of the voice and abruptly sits up. “Wha-” Merlin’s hand shot up to his forehead as his head throbs in pain. He glances at Arthur, who’s facing Merlin’s side and not wearing any shirt. Merlin’s absently pats his chest and sighs in relief when he feels the rough texture of his tunic and neckerchief.

“What am I doing here?!” Merlin screeches, his head throbbing as he racks his brain for memories of what happened last night. Arthur visibly winces at the sound, and he removes his arm from Merlin’s waist. He rolls hide his face in the pillow and covers his ears.

Not in the mood for Arthur’s pratishness, Merlin grabs a pillow and whacks Arthur in the head. Arthur jumps up, alert, and scanning for the enemy. “Merlin!” Arthur snaps, snatching the pillow from his hands before he could hit Arthur again. “What’s your problem?!”

Before Merlin could complain, someone pounds at the door. They stare at each other for a moment before Merlin quickly scrambles out of bed and smoothens his tunic. At the corner of his eyes, Arthur grabs his white nightshirt. Merlin opens the door to see Sir Leon on the other side.

Sir Leon raises his eyebrow at Merlin’s disheveled appearance but then focuses on Arthur striding towards the door. “Sire, the King wants to see you in the throne room. It’s urgent.”

~~~~~

When they arrive in the throne room, they see a woman sobbing and kneeling in front of Uther, her hands bound at her back and knights surrounding her. Arthur moves to stand beside Uther while Merlin finds Gaius. As he gets closer, Gaius gives him a warning look, his face a little pale, before turning at the scene in front of them. Merlin stifles a gasp when he sees the woman’s blackened eye and the ugly purple bruises on her neck.

“…The neighbors heard screaming before a bright flash of light flared from their house. The light alerted the knights in the area. The body was found inside the house, and the girl used magic to escape. She was last seen running towards the citadel.” It's almost comical how the knight takes a giant step back as soon as he finishes reporting the summary of the report, eager to escape Uther’s attention.

“Please! She’s my only child!” The woman tries to move closer but one of the knights draws out his sword and holds it against her neck.

Uther gives her a ruthless glare that sent shivers down to Merlin’s spine. Merlin recognizes that look. His heart drops to his stomach when Uther icily says to her. “Practices of sorcery are banned on penalty of death.”

“No! She was just trying to protect me from my husband! Please, sire! Spare her!” The woman chokes her words out.

“She killed your husband, a citizen of Camelot. It is enough proof that this abomination should not be left roaming freely in the land.” Uther takes a step closer to the woman in his feet. “Where is she?”

The woman withers under his glare, but she keeps her mouth shut. She shakes her head, refusing to give up her daughter’s name. Her sobs echo in the throne room as the other onlookers shuffle nervously, waiting for Uther’s inevitable verdict.

“You are a conspirator. Throw her in the dungeons.” Uther gives the woman one last look in the eyes. “If you do not tell us your daughter’s whereabouts by tomorrow noon, you will be burned in her place.”

Uther then turns to the court. “Spread the word.” Merlin swallows hard as he watches the knights drag the helpless woman outside the room. He doesn’t even notice that the people are already leaving the room until Gaius starts dragging him. The last thing Merlin sees as he steps out of the room is Arthur's troubled expression as he talks to Uther.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Merlin will never start a fire using his magic out of habit, even though Arthur knows about it.


	8. Galen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur being a bit likeable and Merlin is sassy and sad.

“Here,” Gaius hands him a vial with suspicious murky yellow fluid. Merlin grimaces but takes it anyway. At this point, he’ll drink anything just to make the pounding in his head disappear.

“How is Uther so cruel, Gaius? He wouldn’t even let you treat the woman! She’s obviously in pain.” Merlin says indignantly and drinks the remedy in one go. The odd thick texture of the fluid combined with its strong bitter taste makes Merlin gag.

“Merlin!” Gaius hisses, glancing at the chamber doors. “Mind your tongue. He’s still the king.”

“Don’t I know it,” Merlin says drily. Gaius raises his eyebrow, and Merlin takes that as a sign that he needs to clamp his mouth shut. Gaius starts absentmindedly grinding herbs, a slight frown wrinkling in his forehead.

“What is it, Gaius?” Merlin asks, straightening in his seat. Gaius sighs and reaches for a bottle of leaves. He picks a piece or two and adds it to the mortar. “I’m worried about Galen.”

“Galen? The one that they’re searching for right now?”

“Yes. I’ve known her ever since she was a toddler. Her birth father was a frequent patient of mine years ago. Sweet, brilliant girl. She used to follow me around while I was doing my rounds in the lower town.”

“What happened then?”

“Her father died. Galen started helping her mother work, despite her young age. I’ve heard that her mother remarried, and I have rarely seen them after that.”

“This is a trap,” Merlin whispers. Gaius narrows his eyes at him, sensing what he’s thinking. “It’s dangerous, Merlin. Please tell me you will not get yourself mixed up in this.”

“Defending yourself against someone who’s harming you is not illegal. And despite what Galen has done, her mother is still innocent,” Merlin frowns when Gaius stays suspiciously silent at his statement. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gaius smoothly answers and proceeds on grinding the herbs. Literally _and_ metaphorically at this rate if he continues dodging his questions.

“Do you think Galen is innocent?” he leans forward at the table, his eyes narrowing at Gaius. He pointedly ignores Merlin for a while before his shoulders sags a little in worry.

“Yes, I think she is,” Gaius answers softly. “She can barely read, Merlin. And I don’t think she has magic either.”

“She might be hiding it from you,” Merlin suggests. Gaius shakes his head. “I don’t think so. She’s a bright girl, but she’s not subtle.”

His eyes widen in horror. “That makes the situation even worse! We need to prove she’s innocent then!”

“The king thinks Morgause kidnapped Morgana. He’s bloodthirsty. It is not wise to get involved,” Gaius warns him. Merlin swallows thickly as a flare of guilt washes over him, the cuts in his arms starting to itch.

“If this girl is innocent and she will not show up tomorrow, her mother will die. If she shows up, we both know that the king will force her mother to watch as she burns in the stake. I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” Merlin whispers.

Gaius looks at him sadly but gives Merlin a small encouraging smile. “You’re a good person, Merlin. Just be careful.”

“No lectures?” Merlin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Depends on how much trouble you’re going to make.”

“Don’t worry, Gaius. I’ll be careful.”

“Your definition of careful is not exactly comforting.”

~~~~~

“We have done an extensive search. The girl is nowhere to be found. It’s possible that she has already escaped the city,” Arthur reports to his father in the council chambers after spending the whole day tracking the girl. He tries his best to maintain his calm demeanor, even if he can feel his hands sweating under his gloves. “It’s possible that someone helped her escaped.”

The king sits forward, clasping his hands and bringing it near his mouth as if thinking. Arthur waits for a moment before he continues. “Father, we found out the husband has a violent temper and a gambler. Some witnesses say that this is not the first time he tried to hurt his family.”

The results of their investigation make his blood boil. The husband was obviously a bastard. Arthur can’t also help but to feel anger towards their neighbors. They know what was happening, but they didn’t even bother to report to the officials.

“Regardless, the girl is still a murderer. Find the girl. Both of them will be executed tomorrow,” Arthur freezes and stares at his father in disbelief.

“The woman is innocent,” the words come out from his mouth before he can even think about it. His father glares at him, and Arthur can’t help but shrink a little under his gaze.

“She is guilty of conspiracy and will be executed as a traitor.”

“The people will feel unsafe if you execute a victim of abuse!” Arthur says indignantly. He regrets the words as soon as it came out of his mouth, the alarm in his head telling him not to look more suspicious.

“The people _know_ the consequences of harbouring a sorcerer!” His father snaps, his hand slamming hard to the wooden table that the vase at the center jumps.

_Then the time for talking is over._

Morgana’s words sears through his mind, a reminder of what he’s supposed to be doing. Arthur closes his mouth, all the arguments dying in his tongue. This will never work. His father will never see reason as long as it involves magic.

“You will bring me the girl. Do not disappoint me,” the king says in a dangerous tone.

“I won’t, father,” he answers formally. The king looks satisfied with his response and dismisses him. Arthur immediately leaves the council room. Months ago, he would hesitate to defy his father. He didn’t agree with some of his ways, to begin with, but this time he knows how wrong his father’s decision is.

Arthur heads to his chambers. The people made themselves scarce as soon as they see him walking at the end of the hallway. He slips out a small smile as he quietly celebrates how his reckless plan actually worked.

His cheery mood almost flips when he turns to a corner, and he runs into someone. Arthur almost shouts at the person, but he sees his manservant rubbing his shoulder. “It’s like walking into a brick wall,” Merlin mutters under his breath.

“Oh good, you’re here. Chambers. Now.”

“I still have to deliver the medicines, sire,” Merlin huffs, and he slightly raises the strap of his satchel to flaunt it.

“Now,” Arthur snaps at him. At that, Merlin rolls his eyes but follows him to his chambers without a word.

Arthur opens the door and waits for Merlin to come in first. Merlin frowns, finding his action unusual but didn’t comment about it. Arthur quickly locks the door behind him and strides towards the deeper part of his room.

“What is goi…” Merlin doesn’t finish his question as his eyes fall to the desk. Arthur slips out an undignified sound when Merlin abruptly grabs his arm and drags him behind.

“Who are you?” Arthur knows that the question is not directed at him, but it doesn’t stop the chills crawling up his spine at Merlin’s tone. He never heard Merlin use that tone before. They hear a high-pitch squeak behind his desk.

“Merlin, stop,” he almost flinches when his manservant’s intense look snaps at him. Arthur steps towards the desk, and the scrawny kid peeks out, trembling while she stares at Merlin. Arthur walks around the table and offers her a hand, but she didn’t take it. She scrambles to stands up and hides behind his back as she clings to his tunic.

He sighs before turning to Merlin. “Merlin, meet Galen.”

~~~~~

Merlin quietly studies them both, oblivious that the girl is trembling and even Arthur is a little scared of his reaction. Around 10 summers old, curly blonde hair, green eyes, and fair skin. That’s the description spread throughout the city. His feet ache after spending the day walking around the city. Merlin did his own search and investigation, under the pretense of doing rounds for Gaius.

No wonder they didn’t find her. She almost looks unrecognizable, not with her hair that has been cut short and messily dyed to a dirty brown color. She’s donning an old red long sleeve tunic and dark brown pants, although, at a closer look, the clothes seem a little big for her frame. Her eyes, however, gives her away. She looks so utterly lost and young and _terrified_. How was she able to survive this long?

He can feel powerful magic emanating from the girl, but there’s something odd to it. Merlin can feel it sensing him, checking if he’s a threat. “Do you love her?” Merlin asks bluntly.

“What?! No! Are you insane?!” Arthur quickly answers and looks at him as if he has grown a second head. They hear a sniffle. Arthur turns around and crouches in front of her, who looks at the prince with teary eyes. “Oh no, don’t cry. Sorry, I’ll still help you,” Arthur gives her an awkward smile and pats her head carefully.

Merlin sags in relief at the very Arthur-like reaction.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Arthur glares at him.

“You’ll be surprised at the number of times you’ve been enchanted before,” Merlin answers, ignoring Arthur’s paling face, and gives Galen an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Galen. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

An idea starts to form in his head. Merlin sits on the floor and continues assessing the girl. “How did you get in here?” he politely asks. Galen didn’t answer and continues cautiously observing Merlin.

Arthur answered instead. “I saw her in the stables, hiding behind Hengroen.”

“Hengroen?” Merlin can’t hide the surprise in his voice. If Arthur’s temper is a horse, it would be Hengroen. The black stallion bites and kicks anyone who comes near him, but meek when it comes to Arthur. It took Merlin a year of sneaking apples for the stallion to like him. Even Tyr, who's generally well-liked by horses, can’t get near Hengroen without offering a treat.

“Hengroen was protective of her, too. Tried to bite my hand when he thought it was someone else,” Arthur frowns a little. “It’s a wonder how they didn’t find her. The stable boys and even the knights didn’t notice that she was there.”

Merlin mulls it over. Is it protection magic?

“How did you manage to sneak her in?”

“I acted like a prat,” Merlin raises his eyebrow at the use of _his_ word. “I hid her in the sack and carried her here,” Arthur points at the empty sack on the bed.

“Some servants pulled me earlier and said to not aggravate you. Apparently, you carried a punching bag to your chambers,” he says. Both of them winces after realizing how bad it sounds.

“I couldn’t leave her there, and I didn’t have much time to think where to hide her. Besides, the last thing that they’ll suspect is their very own crown prince hiding her,” Arthur says a little defensively, but Merlin isn’t listening anymore. He absently nods, his focus drawn at the string peeking out of Galen’s tunic.

“Galen,” Merlin says carefully. “Do you like flowers?” Arthur looks at him in confusion, but Galen gives her a small nod. He smiles at her and rummages his satchel. He raises a vial containing a queen of the meadow, and Galen takes an involuntary step forward, tranced at the small beautiful white flower inside.

She takes small steps and crouches in front of him. Merlin slowly gives her the vial, and she carefully cradles it in her small hands and plops down in front of Merlin. As she places her hands on the lap, a small five petals flower-shaped pendant carved of wood slips out of her tunic.

The magic is not coming from the girl. It’s from the pendant. It’s not as menacing as when he first sense it. He can feel it weakening. Merlin lets out a small laugh at his realization, and Galen looks at him curiously.

“What a pretty pendant,” Merlin comments. Galen smiles at him brightly, and his heart tugs a little at the pure joy in her face.

“My papa gave it to me,” she quietly says, a little proud and sad.

“Your papa?” Merlin asks, choking in his words. He has a guess, but he doesn’t want yet to jump to a conclusion. His instincts, however, knows he’s right. The pendant gives off a little white glow coming from, flickering and slowly fading as if the magic embedded with it is desperately trying to stay a little longer. Arthur, who has been observing the whole exchange quietly, also moves to sit beside them.

“Uh-uh. He gave it to me before he slept. He said that he will always be with me,” Galen says innocently and strokes the vial.

“Can you tell me what happened earlier today, Galen? Before your mum was taken?” the girl widens her eyes in the realization that she has forgotten something important. She scrambles to stand up, but Merlin quickly places a hand on her shoulder. Merlin didn’t miss her flinch. He gently removes his hand and raises his arms in surrender.

“We’re here to help you and your mama. But first, we need you to tell us what happened,” Merlin says gently.

Tears begin to fell in her face, and he can feel Arthur’s glare boring at him. He feels bad for making the girl remember the horrible experience, but he needs to confirm if the necklace is indeed the source of magic. She looks up to him with her glassy green eyes and quickly averts it to the vial before she starts her story.

“I was sleeping when I heard mama cry. I saw Bernard hitting her and mama fell to the floor. She told me to go back to sleep but I didn’t, and Bernard said something mean to mama and started putting his hands on her neck,” she says in a small voice, her body trembling as her clutch to the vial tightens.

“Mama gasps and her face turns red, and mama was crying. I tried to push Bernard away from mama. But he hit me,” Galen quickly raises an arm and rubs it to her eyes to wipe the tears using the sleeve of her tunic. “

And there’s a bright light. I closed my eyes because it hurts and when I opened them Bernard is sleeping on the floor. Mama told me to run and get out of the city, but some bad men destroyed our door. They started grabbing me and mama and it hurt but they suddenly flew to the wall.”

“Mama cut my hair with a knife and gave me a bag. She told me to run and hide and rub the herbs in my hair. I don’t know where to hide, but I just run and run. I even bumped into a big man with a sword but it’s like he didn’t see me! I shouted in the middle of the road but they continued to ignore me. No one wants to help me.”

Only when Galen finishes her story that Merlin realizes he is also crying. He understands now. “Galen, can you come closer to me please?” Merlin rasps out. Galen looks at him in confusion but slowly crawls towards his lap. When she’s sitting on one of his legs, Merlin carefully raises her tunic a little, and Merlin gasps. At the corner of his eyes, he sees Arthur’s whole body tensing.

An ugly combination of yellow and purple bruise colors her whole stomach. Merlin swallows thickly as he lets go of the tunic. He has heard of the stories. Some of their neighbors said that only her mother would show up with fresh bruises, but never Galen. This is probably the first time that she got hit, which explains why the magic only acted now.

“I-I carried her like a sack in my shoulders. I didn’t have the time to check on her,” Arthur mumbles, his face a little green at his carelessness. It must have hurt a lot when Arthur carried her on his shoulders. Merlin looks down as he feels tiny hands clutching the front of his shirt. Galen buries her head in his chest, and he gingerly places his arms around her, soothingly rubbing her arms.

“I’m scared,” she says quietly, and Merlin can feel her shaking. Merlin hugs her tighter and places a soft kiss on her head.

“We’ll protect you,” Merlin says solemnly, his words not only for her. The magic coming from her pendant finally dissipates in the air, and he stifles a sob as he remembers his own father. Merlin turns to Arthur.

Arthur stares at the both of them, his eyes burning in determination as he also nods. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit scared of publishing this chapter, but I hope you liked it. I'm really not confident about how to introduce a new character. I had always planned to put Galen in the story, but in my first drafts, Galen is a boy. He meets Merlin and Arthur in the annual Camelot tournament (before Morgana appears). 
> 
> The name Galen means "healer" and "calm."


	9. the beginning of the new end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin take a new path.

By the time Arthur arrives in his chambers, the stars were already brightly announcing their presence in the dark, cold night. Arthur closes the door behind him and quietly strides across the room. He finds Merlin carefully laying a sleeping Galen on the centre of his bed.

He’s back from attending his other duties and among other things. His father demanded him to increase the guards, not wanting to take any chances that the woman would escape. It seems like the king learned his lesson after the druid boy escaped with the help of some accomplices (his very own son and ward, along with their servants).

“How is she?” Arthur quietly asks as he peers to the bed. Galen’s eyelashes flicker in movement. She must be dreaming.

“She says she doesn’t really want to eat, but I made her finish the soup,” Merlin says softly while he carefully lifts Galen’s head, adjusts the pillow under her head and carefully brushes the curls in her forehead away from her eyes.

They move to the desk where there’s food waiting for him. Arthur picks up the sticky bun and offers it to Merlin, who for once takes it without any protest. Merlin absentmindedly takes a small bite.

“Her bruises?” Arthur asks, unable to hide his concern. If he had known about her injury, he would have found another way to sneak her into the room.

“I’ve already put a salve on it,” Merlin says as he gives Arthur an odd look. He raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“You will really help Galen?” Arthur frowns at the question, offended that Merlin thinks little of him.

“Of course I will if it wasn’t for her, her mother would be dead.”

Merlin turns in Galen’s direction and stays quiet for a moment. “She doesn’t have magic,” Merlin whispers.

“Merlin,” he sighs, exasperated, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to lie to me. I will still help her even if she’s a sorcerer.”

“The magic is from the necklace given by his birth father. It’s been protecting her all this time,” Merlin continues as if he didn’t hear Arthur. Arthur briefly glances in Galen’s direction. She’s wearing a necklace, the string out of black thread, and a wooden pendant. “Are you saying that his father enchanted the necklace?”

“No, I don’t think her father is a sorcerer at all,” Merlin murmurs. Arthur tilts his head in confusion and he briefly thinks that he probably looks like an idiot right now.

“Her father’s soul is... _was_ attached to the necklace.”

“What?! Is that even possible?”

“Cornelius Sigan managed to contain his soul in a jewel, but I think this case is quite different,” Merlin’s forehead creases a little.

“I think it reacted when her stepfather hit her and when the knights tried to arrest her. It sensed that they were a threat, hence the bright light and the unseen force. When she said that she was ignored, I think the people didn’t see her, at all.”

“Is that how she managed to evade the knights and guards?” Arthur asks sceptically.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Merlin, you’re forgetting something. If you say that people can’t see her, why did I find her? Why can you see her?”

Merlin stares at Galen wistfully. “When I first felt the magic, it felt odd. It’s not exactly malicious, but it just feels misplaced, like it’s not supposed to be here. The magic earlier was sensing if I was a threat. However, I can also feel it fading, and it was desperately trying to cling on the necklace.”

“The magic, or rather her father’s soul disappeared when he deemed that I wasn’t a threat. She’s vulnerable now,” Merlin turns to him, his eyes full of emotions that Arthur can’t understand. “I think he deemed us worthy of protecting her little girl.”

Merlin stays quiet, letting the gravity of his words sink in. Arthur, at the moment, doesn’t really know what to think, so instead, he asks a question that has been niggling on the back of his mind. “Cornelius Sigan is a powerful sorcerer, but you claim that Galen’s father isn’t. So how did he manage to attach himself to the necklace?”

“No magic is stronger than true love,” Merlin says softly with a small smile on his face.

He snorts at his manservant’s statement. It’s not the answer that Arthur was expecting. “Really, Merlin? True love? I knew you were an idiot, but I didn’t know you were also a girl’s petticoat,” he teases while grinning at Merlin.

On second thought, it’s not the best response to give. Merlin scowls at him, and Arthur’s grin falters. The mood immediately plummets, and to make matters worse Merlin didn’t have any sarcastic comeback. Maybe he went too far. 

Arthur clears his throat in a pathetic attempt to cover his awkwardness and shame. “I’ve arranged everything. There’s a hidden tunnel that will lead to the northwestern rampant. It will directly lead to the Darkling Woods.”

“Why can’t we just prove her innocence? That she doesn’t have magic?”

“Her mother thought otherwise, and that’s what she exactly implied in the throne room earlier. The king and the council will not believe it,” Arthur pauses for a moment. “And if Galen gets caught, her mother will be executed with her.”

Merlin gasps and his face pales a shade or two. “Even if she’s not a sorcerer?”

Arthur grimly nods at him.

“Even if we manage to get them out, there are still patrols in the forest,” Merlin points out.

“I’ve taken care of that,” he answers smoothly, trying to cover his nervousness about his plan. Merlin narrows his eyes at him, and he tries not to squirm under his manservant’s scrutinizing gaze because he’s the prince for pity’s sake.

“How?”

“Someone is going to meet us in the woods and escort Galen and her mother out of Camelot.”

“Who?” Arthur sighs and turns to Merlin. “Just trust me.” Merlin swallows thickly and contemplates for a moment before he reluctantly nods to him.

~~~~~

It’s past midnight. Merlin is feeling queasy from lack of sleep and uncertainty of Arthur's plan. He makes one last thorough check to the supplies, some dried food, and medicine for the road, and leaves his room. Judging from the snores, Merlin can tell that Gaius is in deep sleep. He quietly sneaks across the room and leaves the chambers. Now that the easiest part is over, he needs to get to the chambers.

Arthur only told him to prepare some travel supplies for Galen and her mother, and to go to meet them back in the prince’s chambers. He’s a bit late, but one good thing about being a manservant to an impatient prat is you’ll learn to study the castle to find the fastest way to get from one point to another.

By the time he emerges from a secret passage that leads near the chambers, Arthur’s giant head is already poking out from the door. When he sees Merlin, he rolls his eyes and leads a bundled Galen outside. “Of course, I couldn’t count on you when it comes to punctuality,” Arthur hisses at him.

“Do you know how terrifying it is to steal food when the head cook is still in the kitchen?!” Merlin hisses back. Arthur is about to say something back, but Galen tugs Arthur’s tunic. She points to the end of the hallway, where they can hear footsteps.

Arthur quickly grabs Merlin and pushes him into a corner and another secret passage. Merlin continues walking despite the darkness, relying that his eyes will soon adjust to see in the dark.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur whispers. Merlin abruptly stops, briefly confused but then realizes that Arthur is not talking to him.

“I’m scared,” Galen says in a small voice. Merlin feels a movement beside him.

“Better?” Arthur asks softly. Galen didn’t answer, but Merlin hears the scuffs of Arthur boots against the floor. They continue moving until they emerge to another dimly lighted hallway.

 _Oh._ Merlin suppresses a smile when he finally sees what Arthur did. A serious-looking Arthur is carefully carrying Galen using one arm, while Galen is hanging to Arthur’s neck. The sight is too adorable that some of his nerves start to calm down.

They continue to walk and evade some guards, and finally, they arrive in the familiar set of staircases. Arthur slowly puts down Galen and places a finger on his mouth, gesturing her to keep quiet. Merlin peers down the stairs and sees four guards sitting around the table, playing with dice. They all have sluggish movements, and one of them trying to tell a story but keeps dozing off.

He turns to Arthur, giving him a _what now_ look. Arthur just smiles and takes something out of his tunic. It’s a bag of herbs, no doubt when lighted could knock out the guards for a couple of minutes or hours.

However, the duration of the effect is not guaranteed, so Merlin stops him before he could light the bag from a nearby torch and he closes the distance between them. He whispers to Arthur’s ear. “Let me handle this. Wait here.”

When he steps away, Arthur is giving him an odd look and Merlin raises his eyebrow in confusion. Merlin thinks that Arthur is probably annoyed that they won’t use his own way, so he ignores it and quietly tiptoes down the stairs. When he finally arrives to second to the last landing, he quietly mutters a spell. “ _Swefe nu_.”

The guards heavily slump on the table. Arthur and Galen appear behind him, and they cover the last flight of the stairs. Arthur navigates them towards the cell, and they find Galen’s mother sleeping on the dirty floor.

Galen runs to the cell and clutches to the bars. “Mum,” she calls out. It’s the sound of the cell being unlocked that wakes her mother up. Galen rushes to her mother as soon as the cell door opens. Her mother blinks before she realizes who’s in front of her.

“Oh, my sweet child! What are you doing here?!” her eyes wide in terror as soon as she sees Arthur and Merlin standing behind Galen. She quickly pulls her daughter and wraps her hands around her, looking at both of them that she’ll gouge their eyes out if they come close to her.

Arthur raises both of his arms in surrender. “We meant no harm. We need to leave now if you want to escape.”

She doesn’t move, but Galen puts a hand on her mother’s cheek and beams at her. “Let’s go, mum.”

Tears start to form in her eyes before she nods. Merlin takes a step forward and helps her stand up. She still looks at them warily, but upon realizing that she doesn’t have a choice, she quietly follows them while holding her daughter close to her hip.

Arthur takes a torch and leads them to a maze of tunnels. Merlin tenses, remembering that other people know that Arthur is helping Galen and her mother escape. He doesn’t know what to anticipate once they reach the exit.

When they finally arrive at the grate that leads to the woods, Galen’s mother starts to sob. Galen quietly murmurs some words to calm her down. “It’s okay, mum. Everything is going to be fine.”

Arthur holds out a rope to Merlin, and points at the grappling hook that’s attached to the grate from outside. “I’ve put the rope around the tree. All we have to do is to pull,” Arthur removes one of his gloves and hands it to Merlin. “Here.”

Merlin gratefully accepts it and wears it on his dominant hand. The leather glove is a bit big for him, but it will do. Once everything is ready, Merlin nods to Arthur and waits for his signal.

“One… Two… Three… Pull!”

They pull the rope as strong as they could. The rope quickly tightens, and the metal groans as the grappling hook pull it to the other side, and the grate flies open. Arthur turns to him with a smug look on his face, silently sending him a message: _See? I’m not an idiot_. Merlin huffs in exasperation but couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips.

Merlin's heart starts to pound faster as they venture deep into the woods. He swallows thickly, his magic thrumming under his skin as he prepares himself for whatever is about to come. They finally step into a clearing, and Arthur gestures them to halt.

Arthur takes a step forward, and Merlin's eyes widen when a man wearing a dark, green cloak emerges from the trees. The way he carries himself is so familiar. And as if his demeanour is not enough to confirm his identity, Merlin hears the words in his head.

_It’s an honour to meet you, Emrys._

“Arthur Pendragon,” the druid politely calls out.

“Iseldir,” Arthur answers back. No, this is not Arthur talking anymore. It’s Crown Prince of Camelot.

“We gladly accept the conditions,” Merlin frowns at Iseldir’s words. What conditions?

“Let this be the beginning of change,” Arthur solemnly says to him. Both of them turn to Galen’s direction, and Iseldir gives them a small smile. “We’ll be escorting you outside of Camelot.”

Galen walks to Merlin and hugs his waist. “Thank you, Merlin.” Merlin fights back his tears as he pats her head. “Here, this is for you,” Merlin removes the small bag that he has been carrying and gives it to Galen. Galen beams at him and tugs him down.

Merlin bends down a little and startles when Galen kisses him on the cheek. He laughs and ruffles her hair. Galen runs to her mother, who quietly watches the whole exchange with a grateful look, and takes the bag.

Galen then turns to Arthur, who watches her fondly. She runs and jumps to him, and Arthur catches her like he's done this a lot of times before. “Thank you, Artie,” she giggles and also kisses him on the cheeks.

“Be good to your mother,” Arthur says to her fondly as he gently puts her down to her feet. She rushes back to her mother.

“Thank you, thank you! We will never forget your kindness, sire,” Galen’s mother looks like she’s about to kneel. While she profusely gives her thanks to Arthur, Merlin catches Iseldir staring at him. The druid slightly bows his head at him.

_We will meet again, Emrys._

And shortly after that, the three of them disappeared into the woods.

Arthur and Merlin remain standing there in the clearing, both of them not saying a word. Merlin is still trying to calm his racing heart and arrange his jumbled thoughts.

_Arthur just asked for help from a druid. Druid mentioned something about conditions. Did they make a deal? Gods, what did Arthur do? What conditions is Iseldir referring to? What did Arthur offer in exc-_

“I made a deal. In exchange for helping me smuggling people out of Camelot, I will warn them if there’s a raid,” Arthur quietly says to him.

Merlin turns to Arthur. He stares at Arthur for a moment, searching his face for any sign that he’s lying, but all he can see is the silent determination and regret. “You make it sound like you’re going to do this again,” Merlin says slowly.

“We will,” Arthur answers in a low voice.

“We?” Merlin asks, and Arthur just shrugs.

“Well, I need someone with expertise to help me,” Arthur pauses and looks at him straight in the eye. “And it seems like not all magic is bad.”

Hope flares through Merlin, slowly replacing the panic and the fear that threatens to overwhelm him earlier.

His words are barely a whisper, but it seems like it resonated through the woods. The foliage above them clears, basking both of them in the moonlight. Merlin’s heart clenches as he takes in the sight before him. Arthur looks so regal and majestic with quiet confidence radiating from him, and Merlin somehow catches a glimpse of a crown on top of Arthur’s golden hair.

_The Once and Future King._

_Propriety be damned_. It’s the last thought that comes to Merlin’s mind. He didn’t remember moving, but the next thing he knows, he’s wrapping his long, bony arms around Arthur’s neck. He is grinning so hard that his cheeks ache. “Thank you, Arthur,” he whispers as he starts to sob in Arthur’s shoulder.

A second later he feels strong arms wrap around his waist. Merlin has always dreamed of telling Arthur about his magic. At first, it was to prove that he’s not the incompetent, idiotic manservant that Arthur think he was. But the longer he serves Arthur, the more difficult it is to tell him about his secret.

This is not about their shared destiny together. The prat has become a _constant_ in his life. Merlin feared that when the day comes that Arthur would discover about it, he would never let Merlin stay.

But who could have predicted this moment? The prince of a kingdom where sorcery is illegal and his manservant who is the embodiment of magic, embracing each other. They stayed like that for a while, and Merlin’s thoughts drift to the warmth coming from Arthur’s solid body, constantly reminding him that this is reality.

“Merlin, you’re going to tell me everything that has ever happened if we are going to make this work,” Arthur whispers to him.

“Alright,” he answers back with a shaky voice. All his fears are still there, but maybe it's finally time to face them.

“And my armour needs polishing,” Arthur whispers again. Laughter bubbles up from Merlin’s throat.

“Prat.”

“Clotpole.”

“That’s my word.”

The hug didn’t last long. They still have to return and quickly clean up any traces of them helping Galen and her mother escape. They quietly sneak into the castle and separates, and soon they’re both back in their own respective chambers. As they lie in their bed that night, ignoring the future ramifications and enjoying the short-lived peace, they could only think one thing.

No matter what happens in the future, they will not face it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so nervous about this chapter, but I hope you like it. I'm open to feedbacks. I really want to improve my writing. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!


	10. it's the little things that count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin talks, rumour spreads, and an important person appears

The following week of the escape is a nightmare. To say that Uther is furious after being delivered the news that the prisoner escaped is an understatement. The city is turned inside out because of the search of any signs of the prisoner and the sorcerer. Any show of non-compliance will get you thrown to the dungeons.

Merlin’s stomach twists every time a knight reports to the council. But so far, no one suspects them and no reports of druid camps either. But things eventually settle down. The event slips out of Uther’s mind as his focus returns to finding Morgana. Merlin thinks that this is a good opportunity for the talk, and it seems like he’s not the only one who thinks so because Arthur soon asked him to pack things for a hunt. They’ll be alone for five days in the forest.

Merlin shifts uncomfortably on his saddle. His back and thighs already ache even though they haven’t been riding for that long. He’s so nervous that he can’t help tensing, leading to his current predicament. Llamrei, his mount, senses his nervousness and becomes more skittish overtime.

It’s midday when they hear the sound of a stream nearby. Arthur suddenly halts, and Merlin follows suit. “Why did we stop?” Merlin asks as he tries to subtly stretch his neck and rolls his shoulders.

“The horses need rest,” Arthur says as he dismounts. Merlin’s lips quirk when Hengroen releases a long sigh, no doubt relieved from having the opportunity to rest from carrying heavy baggage in his back.

Merlin tries to hops off, but he didn’t manage to raise his leg properly because of the ache in his thigh. His other leg gives out, and he loses his balance. He instinctively closes his eyes as he prepares himself for the pain that will come as he falls face-first to the ground.

Except the pain didn’t come.

Merlin did fall but it was cushioned by a solid body underneath him. He opens his eyes to see Arthur, whose face is so close that he can feel short warm puffs of breath tickling his cheek, grimacing.

“Your bones are sharp enough to kill a man,” Arthur gasps as he tries to move Merlin’s elbow digging to his stomach.

“Sorry!” Merlin instantly sits up, bracing his hands on Arthur’s chest. Arthur takes a breath and thumps his head on the ground, his hair tousled on the grass. “Are you okay?”

“Only you, Merlin, can manage to trip over a horse,” Arthur chuckles.

“You’re not so graceful yourself,” Merlin scowls, and Arthur stares at him incredulously.

“I’ll have you know that I’m an expert swordsman. Graceful is my middle name.”

“Oh really? And who’s the one who’s sprawled on his back at the moment?”

“That’s because you’re straddling me!” Arthur snaps at him.

“Well if you let go of my waist then I wouldn’t be straddling you!” he snaps back not even a heartbeat later.

It takes them a while to process what they have said. Arthur reacts first by dropping his hands to the ground but unfortunately makes the wrong decision to suddenly sit up. Merlin startles as he slides from Arthur’s torso onto his lap, causing him to clutch Arthur’s shoulders for balance.

They stare at each other’s eyes for a moment, both of them lost in each other’s blue orbs. They unconsciously gravitate towards each other, but their trance breaks when Hengroen snorts, seemingly mocking them of how idiotic they look. Merlin instantly flushes, his face beet red as he scrambles away from Arthur.

Arthur blinks. He then stands up and heads towards Hengroen, making a tactical retreat (because he’s not a coward) to hide his own pink-tinged cheeks.

Merlin runs through his mind if there’s a spell that can make the ground swallow him. Remembering none, he sighs and stands up and dusts his breeches. He heads to Llamrei and strokes her mane. Behind him, Arthur clears his throat and Merlin turns, but his eyes focused on an interesting tree behind Arthur. “Let’s head for the stream,” Arthur says and pulls Hengroen’s reins.

Llamrei turns and nudges her head to Merlin’s shoulder. He drops his head to her mane, waiting for his pounding heart to calm down. Why did Arthur stare at him like that? It’s the same look that Freya’s given him, right before they…

 _No, no, no._ Merlin cuts off his line of thought because it’s impossible. There’s no way Arthur will look at him like that. Merlin snorts at the ridiculous idea, and Llamrei nudges his shoulder again.

“Merlin!” Arthur bellows. Merlin promptly straightens and looks at Llamrei, who tilts her head as if saying come on. He pulls Llamrei’s reigns and follows Arthur.

Even if it’s sunny, the breeze is still cold. The forest seems so peaceful today, and all he can hear is the rustling of the leaves, rushing of the water and the crunching of the branches and dried leaves under their feet.

They tie the horses on the tree line. Merlin shots Arthur a questioning look, but Arthur ignores him. Arthur heads to bankside and sits on the ground, splaying his legs and stretching his arms in the air. Merlin sits beside him. “I thought we’re hunting,” Arthur raises his eyebrow, and Merlin rolls his eyes. “Fine. I thought you’re hunting?”

“We are, but we still have a lot of time,” Arthur waves his hand flippantly. “I want to get away from my duties for a while.”

“You could have given me a day off.”

“But who would carry my things?” Arthur asks innocently.

“Ah, I understand. You’re carrying more than enough weight than it is,” Merlin says as he closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his face.

“Is that your roundabout way of saying I’m fat?”

“Your words, not mine,” he mumbles as he flops to the ground, stretching his arms to his side. There’s something in this forest, maybe it’s the relaxing sounds of the forest or maybe the lack of people around, but he can feel his tension slowly seeping to the soft ground beneath him. Everything gradually becomes white noise in his ears, and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

~~~~~~

“Are you mad?”

“What makes you think so, sire?”

Arthur winces at the flatness of his manservant’s tone. “Uhm, nothing,” Arthur mutters as he watches Merlin swipes the knife sharply at the potato, the glow of the fire highlighting the murderous glint in his manservant’s eyes.

The crackling of the wood-burning and the hooting of the birds from a distance fills the silence in the forest. Merlin continues to prepare their dinner, while Arthur sits in the log, being useless polishing his sword. Merlin crouches near the fire and adds the rest of the ingredients to the pot.

“Why are you mad? I even caught supper,” Arthur asks sullenly, unable to stand his manservant’s silence.

The said manservant clenches his jaw and glares at him. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I’m not the only one who needs rest, Merlin,” his manservant’s gaze softens a little at his answer.

“I know that you wanted to get away from your duties, but you’re still a prince. You have a target on your back. How am I supposed to feel when I wake up, and its already nightfall, and you’re nowhere to be found?” Merlin says as he brings his hands to his face, massaging his forehead.

“Angry? But then you’ll find me?” Arthur supplies and gives him a winning smile, the one he uses to charm the visitors and royals. Merlin looks at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“You’re unbelievable,” Merlin huffs in exasperation.

A few moments later the rabbit (caught by the prince himself) stew and Merlin sits on the ground near him, his back against the log on where Arthur is sitting, after giving Arthur his bowl of soup.

“Do you know how to hunt, Merlin?” Arthur asks as he inhales his food. Merlin’s eyebrow shots up at his question. “Of course, I do.”

“Really?”

“Yes, everyone in Ealdor knows how to shoot an arrow or two. Knowing how to hunt can make a difference whether you suffer the whole winter starving or not,” Merlin answers as he takes another spoonful, clueless to Arthur’s dumbfounded reaction.

Arthur stares at his soup. “Is it really that bad?” he asks, feeling guilty and embarrassed of his behaviour he’s shown to Hunith’s generosity.

“Sometimes. Food is already scarce without the bandits pestering us. We heavily rely on crops as our source of food, but weather can be unpredictable,” Merlin says, a bit of melancholic as he reminiscences his life in the small village. “But we get by,” he adds nonchalantly.

“What it’s like to grow up in Ealdor?” Arthur carefully asks, hoping that Merlin will get the cue.

And he did. Merlin turns to him, trying to gauge his intention. Merlin gives him a small, sad smile, and he starts his story. The story of the life of a simple peasant boy with magic living in a small village, and everything that happened ever since he first stepped inside the walls of Camelot.

~~~~~

Their roles as master and servant stayed the same. Well, there are significant changes after the dreaded talk. Behind the closed doors of the prince's chambers, Arthur and Merlin often plot on how they’re going to face another magical threat or how they’re going to make it look like that a suspected magic-user is not a magic-user at all. However, they have a silent agreement to let the king decide for the prisoner’s fate if they found out that the suspect is indeed using his or her magic for malicious reasons.

Fortunately, people are more cautious than ever. They try their best not to catch the ire of the king. Arthur and Merlin didn’t have to break anyone out ever since Galen’s escape. They often resort to planting some counter-evidence and Gaius’ very scientific (and no magic at all) explanations.

After the talk, Merlin feels that dealing with magical threats has become more exhausting. Arthur doesn’t let Merlin face the magical threat alone, which means that Merlin has to constantly keep his eye to the threat _and_ Arthur.

By winter, the raids (or attempted raids) to druid camps stopped because the king decided to focus his forces in finding Morgana. Arthur also hopes that Morgana is still alive. As long as there’s no body is found, there is still a chance that she’s out there somewhere. Considering how Morgause gave up her attempt in conquering Camelot in exchange for Morgana’s life, it’s possible that Morgause managed to save her before it’s too late.

Merlin also informed Arthur about Lancelot and Percival’s warning. Arthur has also suspected that Cenred is indeed gathering an army because of the increasing cases of bandit attacks. He tried to raise the concern to the king, but the king just waved the threat off.

“King Cenred might be gathering his army, but he will not attack us. He’s too much of a coward to wage war against Camelot,” his father said to him during a council meeting. Arthur agreed with his father. Camelot has been known to never have fallen in a siege. However, it doesn’t hurt to prepare.

They did remain master and servant, but some people think otherwise. Merlin spending the night on Arthur’s chambers have become frequent (for planning purposes only), that some guards and servants started to notice it.

One day, a chambermaid caught Merlin sneaking out of Arthur’s chambers, looking sleep-deprived and ragged. It was an exhausting night for Arthur and Merlin, but not because of whatever reason that got the chambermaid blushing. Someone tried to kill Arthur (again), and they barely manage to convince the almost-murderer to leave Camelot and never turn back.

Unfortunately, this chambermaid is a blabbermouth. A few days later, a rumour about a certain prince keeping his manservant up all night started to spread around the castle.

~~~~~

It’s Yule. Their first Yule without Morgana. The food at their table looks extravagant and delicious, but it has lost its appeal. It feels empty without her presence at the table, and Arthur feels that it’s his responsibility to fill that absence. He tries to make small talks, and the king would also try to prolong the conversation but will fall quiet again. The distance between them in the table seems to grow longer in his every failed attempt. Arthur can only do one thing now. He slowly puts down his knife on the table and musters all the sincerity in his voice. “We will find her, father.”

His father smiled at him, and a twinge of pain shot in his chest. Arthur can count in his two hands the times that his father would look at him like that. The king nods, gratefulness glints in his eyes. “Yes, Arthur. We will.”

~~~~~

Someone knocks at the door. “Gaius? Merlin?”

Merlin places the roasted turkey on the table and mutters a quick spell to warm it. He hurries to open the door. “Gwen!” He looks at the pie in one of her hands. “How many times do I tell you? You don’t have to bring food.”

Gwen gives her a quick peck on his cheeks and manoeuvres around him. “Nonsense. I couldn’t just go to dinner empty-handed.”

She places the pie on the table and hugs Gaius. “Happy Yule to the both of you.”

Merlin spent his first Yule in Camelot with Gaius and Gwen, and somehow it turned to a yearly tradition. Merlin suggested it first when he saw Gwen’s lonely expressions when it started to snow. His first year in Camelot would have been the first year that Gwen spends the Yule alone.

After their hearty meal, they exchange gifts. Gwen gives him a new blue tunic, and Gaius a new robe. They applaud her work, and Gwen, being the nice and humble maiden that she is blushes.

Gaius gives Merlin a new satchel, and Gwen a set of pretty ribbons and laces.

“I’m sorry, Gwen. I’m not really sure what girls your age like,” Gaius says uncertainly. Before Merlin arrived in Camelot, Gaius has been spending the Yule alone. The other servants would invite him, especially a particular old maid whose eyes are set on Gaius, but the physician always turns them down. Last year, he heard the old man rambling that he doesn’t know what to give them. Merlin just laughed and told him, “You’ll have to deal with us from now on, Gaius.”

Even though Gaius made him clean the leech tank that day, he will never forget the happiness in his uncle’s eyes.

Gwen shakes her head, her eyes twinkling as she looks at the ribbons and already thinking of all the possible designs she could make with it. “It’s lovely, Gaius! Thank you!”

“Your old enough to be his grandfather, Gaius.” Merlin teases, and the comment earns him a light smack behind his head.

Now it's Merlin’s turn. He hands out his gifts. He knows that he failed the wrapping part when Gwen snickers. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I promise,” Merlin assures them when Gaius raises his eyebrow. They start to open their presents.

He heard an “Oh,” from Gaius. It’s an old medicine book, one that Gaius doesn’t have a copy of. Gaius looks at the book with awe. “Thank you, my boy.”

Gwen got a set of needles, a rare variety of coloured threads, and a light purple silk handkerchief. Her mouth fell open. “Where did you find this, Merlin! They’re extremely expensive!”

Merlin shakes his head, “Well, the gifts are not only from me,” and he gestures to the handkerchief. Gwen looks at it curiously and raises it. When the handkerchief unfolds, a folded piece of paper drops.

She carefully opens it and starts to read. “To my dearest Guinevere,” she gasps as her eyes drop to the bottom of the letter.

“Lancelot…” she whispers. Her eyes begin to water as she brings the letter to her chest. “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin smiles softly as he watches Gwen and Gaius talk, enjoying the holiday with his newfound family in Camelot. His hand unconsciously touches the new neckerchief that he’s wearing, the red fabric soft and smooth in his fingers, as his mind drifts to Arthur.

It’s been one hell of a year.

~~~~~

Time passes quickly if you’re busy. The snow melts and flowers bloom again. Tournaments and feasts were celebrated to welcome the light season. As expected, there’s another attempt in Arthur’s life, but it was easily resolved.

Once the celebrations are done, Arthur and the knights are back on the search. Gaius has been concerned about these frequent searches since more injured knights are being hauled to his chambers every week.

“Ow,” Merlin mumbles as he tries to tilt his body to the side to alleviate the pain.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur gives Merlin a glance over his shoulder.

“I've been on a horse all day.”

“Is your little bottom sore?”

“Yes. It's not as fat as yours,” Merlin answers back, both him and the prince oblivious to the smirks and exchanged looks of the knights behind them.

“…the prince is the top.”

Merlin turns, and all of the knights behind him tenses. Merlin tilts his head in confusion as everyone averts their eyes from the manservant. He looks over to Sir Leon, who gives him a nervous smile. Maybe everyone is just on alert.

Arthur holds out his hand, raising his two fingers. The party quickly halts. Merlin narrows his eyes to where Arthur is staring. There are clothes hanged over the trees and logs, and there’s even a tent. It’s an abandoned camp.

All of them hops off and unsheathes their swords. Arthur does more of his unreadable signals, and the knights swiftly spread out as they come closer and surround the camp. Merlin quickly turns as he hears the whizz of an arrow.

A knight falls, and they hear men screaming, the sounds seemingly coming from every direction as the fog thickens. Armed men emerge from the fog, and attack them, while Merlin heads near Arthur, his magic tingling under his skin.

“On me!” Arthur shouts, and the clanging of the swords fills the forest. Merlin runs behind a tree.

“Forbærne firgenholt,” Merlin whispers and watches as the branch fall on top of one of the bandits. The crunching of the leaves behind him makes Merlin turn around and duck from an axe just in time. The bandit struggles to pull the axe from the tree, and Merlin uses his magic. The axe smoothly slices the rest of the tree, and Merlin crawls out of the way.

He winces as the tree lands on top of the man. The fight seems to die down. Arthur finds him there, still on the ground, looking rather pathetic.

“We're not playing hide and seek, Merlin!” Arthur shouts at him while scanning his surrounding.

“Dollophead,” Merlin mutters as he lets his eyes glow in front of Arthur and a helmet flies, hitting the bandit’s head sneaking behind Arthur.

“That’s not a word,” Arthur says to him breathlessly as he heads towards Merlin and holds out a hand.

“It is,” he answers as he gratefully takes the hand to stand up. He removes the leaves sticking to his tunic and breeches.

“Describe dollop head.”

“In two words? Prince Arthur,” he answers while watching the last man scamper off. The knights are standing in the abandoned camp, catching their breaths when they suddenly hear a rustling from the fog. Arthur grips his swords tighter as they wait for their new assailant.

What they didn’t expect to stumble out of the fog is a raven-haired woman and wearing bedraggled black clothes. She stumbles and leans to a tree, and as she looks up, he hears an audible gasp from the knights as they look at her green eyes, wide in fear. Merlin’s breath has been punched out of him as he stares at the familiar-looking woman.

“Morgana,” Arthur breathes out as he lowers his sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queen Morgana is back!!!


	11. the tears of Uther Pendragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was a bit rushed, so I tried to take my time writing this chapter. I have 4 different versions of Merthur's reaction to Morgana's return, but I decided to focus on Arthur's reaction instead.

If Arthur can describe Morgana using one word, he would use the word strong. He’s not talking about the physical strength, but the character. Morgana is not a typical noble lady: Meek, quiet and subservient. She has never been afraid to speak her mind, and she’s probably the only one brave enough in the whole kingdom to chastise the king of his actions. She has never cowered away from danger.

It’s unnerving to see her like this.

“I was kept in a cell for almost a year. I thought I'd go mad,” Morgana says quietly while staring at the wall.

“How did you escape?” Arthur gently asks. She looks down, fumbling with her hands. “They moved me about a week ago, I don't know why. It may have been the patrol from Camelot.”

“The patrol found you?”

“I thought I was going to be free,” Morgana swallows thickly, and turns to him, her eyes glistening because of her tears. “But then I saw them killed. Every one of them cut down.”

“But that night, the bandits were distracted by their spoils. I took my chance,” she sobs, her voice breaking. “When I saw you, I couldn't believe it,” her lips tremble as she speaks. Arthur heart’s ache. She’s been through a lot.

Arthur embraces Morgana as he works up the courage to speak. Being back in Camelot must be hard. She slowly disentangles from him, and Arthur gulps. “Morgana, I need to tell you something.”

“I… I know about your magic.”

Morgana freezes.

“Your dreams. They’re not just dreams, are they?”

“Th-they’re just nightmares, Arthur,” her eyes wide in fear, confusion and something else that Arthur can’t decipher.

“You’ve always warned me about the danger that’s about to come. I still remember how you tried to stop me from killing the Questing Beast.” He doesn’t add that her dream about Sophia also came true, not when Morgana doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic.

Arthur takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I know that being in Camelot doesn’t make you feel safe. I want you to know that your secret is safe with me.” Morgana gapes at him for a while, before her stare hardens at Arthur. “Who told you?”

Arthur shakes his head. “No one told me. I figured it out on my own.” Arthur fights to maintain his calm expression as Morgana narrows her eyes at him. He knows that she doesn’t believe him.

Before she could pry further, he cuts her off. “When you asked me before how will I rule when I’m the King, I admit that I’ve wanted to be my father,” he says, reminiscing about the druid boy, Mordred. He wonders how many people were killed by his father just because of something that they don’t have a choice.

“This past year, I have learned a lot of important things, things that made me realize how wrong my father is. We both know that my father is a stubborn man. His hatred for magic will never disappear. But trust me, Morgana. It’s difficult for now, but I promise you time will come that you don’t have to live in fear anymore,” Arthur says solemnly.

Morgana yanks her hand as if his touch burns her. “I think I need to rest,” she says, looking pale and confused. Arthur stands up and gives her a reassuring smile when Merlin enters the chamber.

Arthur strides out of Morgana’s chamber, glaring at his manservant. Why is he here? He didn’t call for him.

Merlin’s gaze briefly lands on Morgana before he averts his eyes to the floor. Arthur didn’t stop when he hears Morgana call out Merlin. Instead, hides out of their sight, shamelessly eavesdropping to their conversation.

And when Morgana says that she understands why Merlin poisoned her did he only leave, releasing the breath he unknowingly been holding. He’s just glad that it worked out.

~~~~~

Merlin greets everyone he meets along the way, uncaring that some of the servants and guards are looking at him like he’s deranged.

Morgana forgave him! Oh, Merlin couldn’t believe his luck.

He bursts into Arthur’s chamber, a bucket of water in his hand and a rag on the other. He hums while he starts doing his chore, placing the bucket to the floor and rolls up his sleeves. For the first time, he’s eager to do his chores.

“What are you looking so happy about?”

“Aaah!” he shrieks, clutching the rag to his chest.

Arthur is sitting at his desk, a quill in his hand. He raises an eyebrow to Merlin. Merlin releases a sigh of relief and lets out a small laugh. He proceeds on kneeling on the floor, dips the rag to the bucket and starts scrubbing the floor.

“The sun is shining, we found Morgana, and I’m motivated to do my chores,” he answers cheerily while enthusiastically scrubbing.

Arthur merely gives him a noncommittal response and taps the quill absentmindedly to his lips. Merlin frowns and narrows his eyes at Arthur.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The answer is not really convincing if the one who says it is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Merlin arches an eyebrow and Arthur slowly puts down the quill to his desk. “Is it possible to bring back the dead?”

Merlin sits up, both alarmed and confused. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“Calm down, idiot,” Arthur scowls but his words have no heat in them. “It’s just that Morgause has once tricked me into killing my father,” Arthur blurts out.

It was one of the most difficult parts of their conversation during their hunt. Explaining how Morgause summoned her mother. Merlin feels bad for not having the answers that Arthur seeks if it was really his mother they saw or a twisted version of the truth. Either way, it doesn’t help Uther’s case at all, both still fits the puzzle on Uther’s hatred of magic.

“Oh…” Merlin feels like an idiot for not understanding Arthur’s concern sooner, his eyes softening as he looks at the troubled prince.

“It’s unlikely,” he bites his lip. He can somehow feel the burn in his chest as the memories of Arthur almost dying because of the Questing Beast and the important people that he almost lost, all for the sake of maintaining the balance.

“But Arthur, I think Morgana is really here,” he answers softly. Arthur hums, contemplating Merlin’s answer for a moment.

“So… you’re motivated to do your chores,” Arthur says a while later, with a hint of mischievousness and silent promise to make his manservant’s life harder in his voice. Merlin stares dagger at him, wondering if he should turn the prat into a toad.

~~~~~

That night, when everyone is fast asleep, a raven-haired witch rides deep into the woods. The hood pulled up as she hides her face, her green eyes darting as she scans the forest. She soon arrives at a cave.

She meets with her sister, a golden-haired sorceress, and soon they talk about their plot that involves mentally torturing an unsuspecting king like their exchanging simple pleasantries.

The witch hands out a handkerchief stained with the king’s tears, and as the sorceress drops it to the cauldron filled with a thick, black potion, the root floating above the potion releases a high-piercing scream.

The sorceress explains to her beloved sister what a mandrake root is. It is a special magical plant whose cries can only be heard with magic. For those without the gift, the magic pierces the very recesses of the soul, twisting the unconscious into the very image of fear and dread.

The sorceress hands the mandrake root to the witch. The witch stares at the root, the potion dripping from it is as dark and sinister as they wanted it to be.

The tears of Uther Pendragon have only begun to fall.

~~~~~~

Arthur glances at Merlin, who’s standing from the side with a content expression. Merlin once mentioned to him that it’s amusing to watch the uptight nobles making wrong decisions, and by that, his manservant means getting absolutely drunk.

Maybe he’ll put him in the stocks again. He knows that sly idiot caused him to get a mouthful of mud earlier in the training.

The king wobbly stands from his seat beside Arthur, drawing everyone’s attention. The noise dies down when his father clears his throat, preparing for a speech. “Standing here, seeing so many happy faces, seems almost like a dream. I can tell you, I have not felt like this in a long time,” his father says, turning to Morgana.

“What, drunk?” Arthur quips. His father hits him lightly in the arm while chuckles spread throughout the room.

“Drunk with happiness. I would have searched the entire world, the seas, the skies, the stars, for that smile. To have it stolen from me was like a blade to my heart. Morgana, there are no words. You mean more to me than you will ever know,” the king turns to the crowd and raises his goblet. “To Lady Morgana.”

Everyone raises their goblets in response. “To Lady Morgana,” and a jig and the chatting noises start again.

His father and Morgana share an embrace. It’s a sweet sight.

If it wasn’t for Morgana’s expression of disdain while hugging his father. Arthur chokes in his wine. He lightly coughs and subtly looks up again to check if it’s not just the effects of wine.

Morgana, oblivious to Arthur’s attention, rolls her eyes. Arthur leans back to his chair as the two break apart. Morgana’s face smoothly morphs to a sweet, innocent lady, the image highlighted by her pristine white dress.

“I need some air,” his father says as he staggers on his way out of the banquet hall.

Arthur's stomach churns, his mood for the festivity is already gone. He feels guilty. Seeing Morgana act the sweet King’s ward just reminds him that his father is still the one who kills magic-users. Hiding and smuggling them out of Camelot will not always work.

But what can he do?

Arthur puts down his goblet and taps the edge of it. A few heartbeats later Merlin appears beside him and bends down, tipping the flagon over the goblet and filling it as slowly as he could. “What is it?” his manservant whispers to him.

Arthur finds it a bit ridiculous that he feels safe when Merlin is around. He’s capable of defending himself. Still, Merlin’s steady presence makes him feel grounded.

He glances at Morgana’s direction, who just in time sits to her chair and gives him a sickeningly sweet smile, before turning to Guinevere and whispers something. His heart aches a little, wondering how sincere that action is. He tilts his head and whispers to Merlin’s ear. “Later.”

Arthur catches the knight sitting beside him staring at Merlin inquisitively as his manservant moves back to stand behind Arthur’s chair. The knight chokes when he notices Arthur’s attention to him.

“Are you alright?” he asks the knight, slightly irritated on the way he’s ogling at Merlin.

“Yes, sire,” the knight blushes, and focuses his attention to his plate, stuffing as much food as he can to his mouth. Arthur frowns at the odd behaviour.

“Sire,” Arthur’s head snaps at the guard. “It's the king, he's -“ the guard hasn’t able to finish his sentence before Arthur stands up. The guard reads his signal and Arthur follows him as they both rush to the direction of the courtyard.

That’s when he heard the screaming. Arthur breaks out into a sprint as he recognizes the voice, dread creeping to his system.

Arthur finds his father, sobbing and screaming like a broken man, curling himself to the ground.

~~~~~

_The king never looked so frail before._ Merlin thinks as he stares at Uther on his bed. He glances at Arthur worriedly, before he follows Gaius out of the king’s chamber.

“What could've made him like this?” Arthur asks, catching up to them.

“I have no idea,” the physician answers, not bothering to look back.

“Gaius, he was lying on the ground crying,” Arthur says in disbelief.

“Exhaustion.” Merlin, fed up with Gaius’ clipped answer, glares at him. “Gaius, what is it?” he snaps. Arthur walks closer, looking at the physician expectantly. Gaius sighs. “When I found him, he was mumbling. Most of it was incoherent but...”

“What?” Arthur asks impatiently.

“He kept mentioning your mother’s name,” Gaius slowly answers. Merlin's eyes widen, and Arthur almost takes a step back.

“He never talks about her,” Arthur murmurs.

“He claimed that he saw her. In the well.”

“Did the guards see him in this state?”

“I think you're worrying too much.”

“The people can’t know about this. Find a cure if this is indeed an illness,” Arthur glances at the corridor behind them before he turns back to Gaius. “If this is of magical nature, I want to know about it,” Arthur says in low voice, sparing one last glance at Merlin, who was watching the whole exchange quietly, before he leaves.

They slowly made their way back to Gaius’ chamber.

“I didn’t realize before how vulnerable the kingdom is,” Merlin whispers and Gaius gravely nods. “The search has taken its toll.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Merlin mumbles, surprising the old physician. “Morgana’s return is a symbol of hope. Everyone will let their guard down, and it will be an opportunity for Camelot’s enemies.”

Gaius bafflement turns to a sad smile. “Where is that young bumbling boy that stumbled into my chamber years ago?”

For a moment, all of the faces of the ones he lost flashes in front of him. Merlin averts his eyes. “His innocence was stripped away.”

Merlin can feel Gaius’s stare boring into his very soul. “Seeing things in a new light is not so bad. Sometimes, we need to lose a part of us to truly find ourselves.”

Merlin ponders it a bit. He better finds something soon because he is losing a hell lot of himself.

“Just a question, Gaius. What’s with old people and their crypticness? Do you have an explanation for that?” Merlin asks, genuinely curious.

Gaius’ eyes narrow dangerously. “And why are you asking me?”

Merlin huffs in exasperation. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re the court physician _and_ an old person.”

That earned him a smack on his head.

~~~~~

Arthur’s relief on seeing his father well again is short-lived as the other knights gave their reports. Merlin’s sources have been right. Cenred is indeed amassing an army.

When his father didn’t say anything, he decides to voice out what they should have done months ago. “Father, we should send a patrol to assess the situation,” Arthur says, his voice cutting the tense silence of the council chamber.

Arthur frowns when he notices the king is not paying attention. He follows his father’s gaze and checks behind his back.

Aside from the other knights and guards, there’s nothing unusual there. Arthur can feel his gut being twisted as he slowly looks back to his father, who’s now standing with a look of horror in his face.

“Leave me alone. Get out of here,” the king shouts, pointing at the empty spot.

“Father, will you-“

“I said get out! Get out! I'll have you hanged!” his father starts screaming hysterically. Arthur briefly gives Sir Leon a look, and they immediately step into action, restraining and dragging back the king to his chambers.

His father won’t stop screaming, trashing to get free from their grip. No matter what they do, he won’t calm down.

When they arrive in his father’s chamber, free from the prying eyes, Arthur gulps as he reaches an impasse and looks up to Gaius. “We need to calm him down.”

Gaius gives him a small nod and orders Merlin to get the drug in his chambers. Sir Leon seems disturbed by Arthur’s order but follows them anyway, locking both of the king’s arms in his back like a criminal. Arthur holds his father’s nose as he forces him to drink the drug.

The effect of the medicine had not been immediate. It’s a torture, watching his father act like a mad man. It took a while before the king’s eyes droop, and a moment later he’s asleep. They carefully lay him in bed, and Arthur dismisses Sir Leon.

“What’s wrong with him, Gaius?” he quietly asks.

“During the great purge, the king drowned many he suspected of sorcery. And some, God help them, were children, killed for the magic they were born with,” Gaius pauses, glancing at his ward’s direction. “Maybe his conscience is playing tricks with him. Whatever it is, we can no longer hide this.”

Arthur shuts his eyes. He hoped that this condition is of magical nature, because he knows they can find a way to fix it. But it seems like he’s wrong.

_Is his father truly losing his mind?_

Before he can get his bearings, they hear the warning bells ringing.

~~~~~

The people are restless, the king is ill, and the guard they found who’s supposed to be recovering is dead. There’s a traitor in Camelot. The dagger that they found near the sentry has a symbol of a Rowan Tree, a sigil of a bloodguard.

Both Merlin and Arthur think that the timing of it all is too convenient. Yet, they don’t know which issue to address first.

“Arthur, you need to rest,” Merlin says softly at the prince pacing near Uther’s door.

“I can’t leave him here alone,” Arthur hisses. Merlin shakes his head, arranging the blanket to properly tuck Uther. He freezes when he hears a drip in the room. Merlin looks around the chamber, trying to find the source of the odd sound, but all he can hear is the scuffing of the boots. He looks at Arthur irritatedly. 

“Arth-“

“I’m not leaving him, you can go back to you-“

“Stay still, will you?!” Merlin snaps, and Arthur glares at him but stops his pacing.

Merlin looks around again and finds a small amount of dark liquid at the floor near Uther’s bed. He crouches and gingerly touches it.

Mud?

He’s about to stand up when someone shoves him under the bed. “Wha-“ Arthur clamps his mouth shut.

“Morgana!” Arthur whispers, his eyes trained at the entrance, and continues to shove Merlin. Merlin’s protest dies in his mouth when he feels something smear his face.

Arthur crouches and also sees the root (Merlin thinks it’s a root) covered in mud, hanging under Uther’s bed. They finally hear the footsteps getting louder, and Arthur hurriedly crawls. Merlin helps by pulling Arthur, and the prince grimaces when the root smears his red tunic.

Merlin touches his face, his body shuddering in disgust when he feels the mud in his face. “Ew-“ Arthur sprawls on top of him, a hand on top of his mouth and an elbow on the side of his head. Arthur’s eyes are wide in warning and glances at their feet. Merlin looks at the entrance expectantly, and Morgana’s shadow appears first before her. Her purple gown flutters behind her as she briskly walks towards Uther’s bed.

They hold their breath as Morgana reaches out under the bed, pulling the root hastily without even looking. She quickly leaves the chambers.

They wait until they can’t hear the footsteps. Arthur collapses, burying his face on the crook of Merlin's neck. “Move, dollophead! I need to follow her!” he pushes Arthur off him and crawls out of the bed. He almost trips when a hand wraps around his foot. “Are you insane?” Arthur hisses.

“We need to know what she’s going to do with that… that thing!” Merlin yanks his foot. “Don’t follow me. You’re needed here,” he says as he pulls some of the blankets to cover Arthur’s exit, leaving Arthur sputtering. He hears the prince bonks his head on the bed before he leaves Uther’s chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely think that Morgana still has a chance for redemption in season 3.


	12. darkest under the lamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur discovers Morgana's loyalty. Merlin fears for the future.

Arthur notes to knock next time when Gaius jumps when he suddenly barges in the chambers, feeling bad for startling the ancient man. “Sire, what’s wrong?”

He quickly shuts the door behind him and strides across the room. “We caught Morgana sneaking to my father’s chamber. Merlin followed her,” he says, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice, both at Morgana’s suspiciousness and Merlin’s recklessness. He hands over to Gaius his stained tunic. 

“There was something under my father’s bed. A big root covered with mud,” he continues, gesturing to the stain. “Morgana took it with her.”

The physician brings the tunic closer to his face. “This doesn’t look like mud,” Gaius mutters and sits at the table. He reaches for a stick of some sort and a magnifying glass. With the glass in his hand in front of his eye and the stick on the other, he rolls the stick to the stain.

There’s no way that it could be a coincidence that there’s a disturbing-looking plant under his father’s bed just when his father is losing his mind.

“The root that you have found could be a magical plant. This is no mud. It’s a potion. But I need to check my books,” he says decisively and eyes the tunic. The physician gets an empty bottle and takes a sample of the fluid.

After taking a sample of the dark liquid, he hands the tunic back to Arthur. “Sire, I suggest getting rid of this. Just to be safe from the effects of the potion.”

Arthur nods. He takes the tunic and tosses it to the fireplace without a second thought. “What can I do to help?” he asks. Gaius arches an eyebrow at him. “Go back to your chambers and rest, sire,” he says softly.

He ignores it, snatching a random book from the pile on the table, and sits across him. Gaius sighs, mumbling something about having two stubborn idiots.

Arthur frowns, flipping the pages of the book. He doesn’t really understand what he’s looking at. The words seem to dance around. Guessing from the drawings, it’s a book about plants. It’s a good start.

“The root is almost as long as my forearm. It has these several tiny tendrils around it,” he says out loud. “The shape almost looks like a person,” he mumbles.

“Hmm…” Gaius pauses for a moment before disappearing to his thick pile of books. When he emerges, he places the book in front of Arthur and flips it, page to page.

“There!” Arthur points at the plant. Gaius starts reading it. “A mandrake root. It’s a magical plant. Its screams can only be heard by magical users.”

“My father isn’t a magic user,” Arthur says indignantly.

“No, sire. He’s not. The root, however, can also affect non-magic users. It brings−” Gaius pales, “− unimaginable terrors to its victims through visions.”

“How do we break the enchantment?”

“We have to destroy it. Your father’s condition will worsen if we don’t destroy it as soon as we can,” Gaius says grimly.

“And once we destroy it, my father will be back to normal?”

Gaius shakes his head. “It will take time for the victim to recover.” 

Taking a deep breath, he slowly counts from one to ten. “What happens if the root is separated from the victim?” Arthur calmly asks, his voice low.

“The king was the only one who got a vision during the banquet. The potion covering the root is likely mixed with something of Uther’s,” Gaius tells him. “The root needs to be coated again, or else every non-magic user here in the castle will suffer from visions.”

“There’s dried up potion at the bottom of the bed. The mandrake root has been there all along, and no one even saw it. Not even the servants,” Arthur focuses on the figure of the plant in the book. “They will put it back under his bed.” His heart starts to pound faster as an idea pops into his mind.

Reading the prince correctly, Gaius shots a concerned look. “What are you planning to do, Arthur?”

“A test of loyalty,” Arthur stands up from his seat. “All I have to do is destroy it, right? Will fire do the trick?”

Gaius nods. “Arthur, what are you going to do if Morgana’s the traitor?” he quietly asks.

He gulps, turning away from the physician. “But we don’t know that yet,” he says, more to himself.

Arthur didn’t waste a second and marches to back to his father’s chambers. He tries to find a good spot, one where he can easily hide himself, depending on which entrance they will enter.

After waiting for what it feels like hours, a figure wearing a lavender velvet cloak enters the king’s chambers. His eyes not leaving the figure, Arthur quietly angles his body behind the pillar, making sure that he's out of her sight.

Arthur freezes when the figure throws the hood back, revealing Morgana with a disgusted look on her face. She waves a hand in front of his father. Not getting any response, her face splits into a cruel smile. A mandrake root emerges from her cloak, and she kneels beside the bed, attaching the root under the bed.

Morgana stands up once she secures the root under the bed. A soft sound of dripping can be heard across the room. She then hastily leaves the chambers.

Even if the door clicks after Morgana closes the door behind her, Arthur didn’t dare move, a part of him hoping that Morgana would come back and destroy the blasted root. After waiting for a few moments with bated breath, Arthur emerges behind the pillar and curtains.

He rushes to the bed, yanks the root and throws it to the fire. He turns to the door, expecting his manservant to burst into the chambers.

Merlin didn’t.

Arthur walks across the room, slumping down on the chair beside his father’s bed. He reaches for the thick blanket and pulls it up to cover his father properly. He looks like he’s finally getting peace in his sleep.

Morgana is the traitor. Her betrayal hurts. This is too cruel, even for her. It even hurts more when Arthur remembers how his father was the only one who never lost hope trying to find Morgana. His father loves Morgana.

Maybe even more than him, his own son.

Merlin has already told him her past attempts. But seeing it with his own eyes, he can’t help but question himself how blind he was before.

When the dawn breaks, Arthur didn’t leave his father’s chambers. Not until Sir Leon arrives to fetch him for a council meeting.

Sir Leon stands patiently on his spot, waiting for Arthur to decide. Arthur takes a deep breath and stands up. “Secure the chambers. Make sure that there would be at least two guards at both entrances. They will not leave their posts no matter what happens. No one is allowed to enter without me or Gaius.”

Every single pair of eyes focuses on him once he steps inside the council chambers. The looks that the councillors give him makes Arthur sick. They’re all acting like his father is already dead. He briefly glances at Gaius, a silent question on his face. Gaius subtly shakes his head.

_Where the hell are you, Merlin?_

His instincts are telling him to run, to get a horse and find his idiotic manservant. Instead, he takes a seat, purposefully dragging the chair beside the king’s seat loudly. The councillors receive the message clear enough that some of them attempt to convince him to take his father’s seat, figuratively and literally. All it took is one very, _very_ sharp glare from the prince, no doubt inherited from his father, and they clamp their mouths shut.

They quickly start the meeting. The lords stutter as they voice their reports and concerns, disturbed by the strange calm demeanour of the prince. The prince is donning a mask, unreadable to everyone but Gaius.

~~~~~

_“Abricaþ benda.”_

Merlin feels his surge of magic fighting over the enchantment of the chains holding him down. The chains start to glow, and Merlin holds his breath, waiting for it to break. The glow fades, his magic settling back under his skin.

_“Abricaþ benda!”_

He tenses, forcing his arms to move to help the chains break. The chains glow again, but they didn’t break. He grits his teeth, rattling his brain for other spells.

 _“Isen fæstnunga onlucan me!”_ he shouts, getting more desperate. He gasps when the spell didn’t work.

Merlin’s head snaps up when he hears rattling from the distance. Heart pounding faster, he frantically searches for something, anything!

He needs to find a way to get free. He needs to get back to Arthur.

~~~~~

The meeting is shorter than usual, however, his duties have increased as his father is still bedridden. By the time Arthur is free again, it’s almost mid-afternoon. Walking to his father’s chambers, he meets the physician who is also going to do a check-up on his father’s condition.

“Has Merlin returned?” Arthur whispers. Gaius shakes his head.

Clenching his fist, he whispers back again to Gaius. “I’m going to find him. Don’t worry.”

Gaius’ head snaps towards him, making the prince flinch. “You can’t leave now. I’m worried about Merlin too, but you are needed here.”

“I just can’t wait here! What if something happened to him?”

Whatever Gaius' response is, it died when they hear the commotion as they get closer to the king’s chambers. They briefly exchange looks.

“…. clearly a misunderstanding here.” Recognizing the owner of the voice, Arthur tenses. He quickens his pace. 

“…gave us strict orders not to allow anyone to enter the chambers apart from him and the court physician.” They hear the guard says, his tone with a hint of uncertainty.

“Surely, this rule doesn’t apply to the king’s ward?” Morgana asks in her honey voice.

“I am so sorry, m’lady.” They round at the corner in time just to see the two guards stationed by the door starting to waver. When one of the guards notices them, he elbows his companion, whose expression instantly brightens at the appearance of the prince, clearly glad that he won’t deal with the dilemma.

“Stop harassing the guards, Morgana,” Arthur says, deadpan.

“Am I not allowed to visit the king?” she asks, her sharp gaze fleeting between him and Gaius.

“Let’s discuss inside,” he answers instead.

Morgana arches her thin eyebrow but quietly follows them inside. Arthur stands at the foot of his father's bed, his whole body alert while watching Morgana take his father’s hand and kiss it while Gaius quietly does his own routine. 

“How is he, Gaius?” Morgana asks softly.

“Much better. I found the source of his sickness. He was being enchanted,” Gaius answers.

“Enchanted,” Morgana repeats dumbly, her face a little pale. She probably didn’t expect the mandrake root to be found soon.

“The guards stationed outside are for his safety,” Arthur says.

“But why am I not allowed to visit the king?” she asks sharply. Ignoring Morgana’s stare boring to him, he just focuses on his father’s face, which is no longer pale. He looks so peaceful in his sleep.

“I apologize, my lady. I only found the source, but not the nature of the enchantment. It could be contagious. For everyone’s safety, visits are not recommended unless necessary,” Gaius answers smoothly. Arthur briefly wonders if everything that Gaius says will sound convincing if he’s using the I-am-the-physician voice.

He’s glad that Gaius answered for him. He’s afraid that his voice will betray him if he talks to Morgana. Arthur fears that his father will not believe him. He’s blind to everything that Morgana does.

Misinterpreting Arthur, Morgana says, “Don't worry, Arthur. He will get better,” her voice full of pity. Arthur suppresses a shudder and forces himself to give Morgana a nod.

“He’ll make a full recovery. But for now, let’s leave him to rest,” Gaius says, giving a pointed look to Arthur and Morgana. Morgana had no choice but to leave with them.

As much as he doesn’t want Morgana to know that they already found the root, he can’t take the risk of Morgana discovering it instead when she goes back to the king’s chambers at night and lashes her anger out to his father.

Remembering her past attempts at harming the king, Arthur thinks that she can’t be acting alone. Someone is always taking advantage of her hatred towards the king, like Alvarr and Morgause.

Now that her plan on making the king insane has failed, she’s going to meet up with the one who’s filling these malicious ideas in her head. Merlin could be in their grasp.

~~~~~

Merlin watches Kilgharrah, his body gradually getting smaller as he flies away and disappears again in the night. When he can no longer see his old friend, he makes his way back to the citadel.

After the serket has stung him, Merlin genuinely thought he was going to die until Kilgharrah saved him.

_“Be careful, young warlock. The great battle for Camelot has begun. You must be strong. For Arthur's destiny and the future of Albion lie in your hands.”_

Merlin can’t shake the dragon’s parting words out of his head. Oddly enough, it’s not the massive responsibility placed upon his shoulders that’s bothering him.

_“None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin, and none of us can escape it.”_

Kilgharrah has warned him a lot of times that it’s better for Morgana and Mordred to die to prevent their evil alliance. It feels like Merlin’s being played because everything that he’s doing is just leading them to take the path of destruction.

If no one can escape destiny, is the future set on stone?

Merlin suddenly stops from his tracks, his blood running cold, rushing to his ears to the point that he can hear his heart pounding fast.

Mordred is destined to be the doom of Arthur. Did it mean that Arthur will die in the near future?

Merlin drops to his knees, his fear overtaking his body.

_None of us can escape it._

No, no, no. Morgana had several visions of Arthur’s death, yet they manage to stop it.

Before Merlin knew it, he’s already crying. All this magic, yet he feels powerless. He just keeps messing everything up. Merlin knows that it was his fault, one way or another. Morgana’s betrayal to Camelot, and Mordred’s hatred for him.

But it feels like the gods are just toying with them. He feels reduced to a mere puppet.

Merlin wipes the tears from his face, the rough sleeve of his jacket burning his face. He still needs to go back to the citadel. Destiny be damned, he will not let Arthur die.

He will not fail again.

Once he composes himself, he hurries to sneak back to the tower. Once he reaches the physician’s chambers, he finds Gaius sleeping, his face on top of the book.

“You need to wake up,” he whispers, gently shaking the old man. With bleary eyes, Gaius frowns at him before recognition dawns on his face. “Merlin! Where have you been?”

“I don't have time to explain,” Merlin answers. “Morgana is in league with Morgause. She's plotting against Uther,” he quickly says.

Gaius pales. “What?”

“She's responsible for his visions.”

Gaius blinks for a moment before he says, “We took care of the enchantment. Arthur burned the root.”

“Arthur?”

“Yes. You need to find him. I barely stopped him from chasing after you. He’s on edge all day, Merlin,” Gaius says, already pushing him towards the door.

“Where did he go?”

“I am not sure, but Morgana already knows that the enchantment is no more. I think Arthur is planning to follow Morgana to find you,” Gaius stammers.

Merlin’s eyes widen. “What?!”

Before Gaius can answer, Merlin is already rushing to find Arthur.

~~~~~

Morgana didn’t leave her chambers. Yet.

It’s impossible that she left without him noticing. He’s been here all night, hiding in an alcove near Morgana’s chambers. The last time Morgana's door open is when Guinevere left a few hours ago.

The lack of any movement makes Arthur anxious about Morgana’s power. Can magic be used to turn people invisible? Maybe she already knows that he’s keeping an eye on her?

Arthur perks up when he hears the soft but hurried sounds of boots scraping against the floor. He immediately moves back, hiding and prepares to fight if it’s an enemy.

A wide-eyed, breathless Merlin suddenly pops into his line of sight. Arthur feels his shoulders slump in relief. He quickly grabs the manservant and pushes him against the wall of the alcove, a hand over his Merlin’s mouth.

“Arfur?” Merlin whispers, his name muffled by the glove. Arthur slowly nods before he slowly removes his hand.

Now that he’s sure that Merlin is alive, his concern turns to anger. “You half-wit! Why did you run off like that?!” he hisses.

“Mor− “

“What the hell happened to you? Where have y−“

“Morgana, she’s working with Morgause. Morgause somehow gets a hold of Cenred’s army. They’re on their way as we speak,” Merlin cuts him off.

They freeze when something clangs from Morgana’s door. Merlin pulls Arthur and manoeuvres his body, hiding Arthur behind him.

Something clicks again, and Arthur guesses that it’s the door being locked.

“ _Onslæp nu_ ,” Merlin whispers, and something slumps on the ground. They emerge from their hiding spot, finding Morgana unconscious on the ground.

“Why did you do that?”

“We can’t let her meet Morgause. If you’ve taken care of the root, they might put another enchantment to the king,” Merlin calmly answers, striding towards Morgana and carefully lifting her limp body. Arthur gapes for a moment, amazed that Merlin can actually carry someone, before moving when Merlin cocks his head towards the door.

Merlin gently places Morgana on her bed. Arthur can see the confusion in Merlin’s eyes as his manservant stares at Morgana. They quickly left her chambers, and Merlin stares at the closed door again.

“How long will the spell last?”

“Long enough that she won’t have enough time to meet with Morgause,” Merlin quietly answers.

Something about Merlin’s calmness− no, detachment is bothering Arthur. He nudges Merlin with his shoulder, and they quietly head back to his chambers.

“So, Morgause?” Arthur asks once Merlin closes the door behind him. Merlin gravely nods. “Yes, Morgause.” Merlin bites his lip and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Arthur, Morgause called Morgana her sister.”

At the newfound knowledge, some things start to click in his mind. However, Arthur didn’t feel anything apart from mild surprise. Not when he already got the answer that really matters: Morgana’s loyalty.

“They enchanted the king to make sure that Camelot will not have a leader once Cenred’s army arrives in the gates,” Merlin continues.

Arthur takes a seat by the window. “Did they mention the number?”

Merlin shakes his head. “No, I only heard that Cenred’s army is marching on Morgause’s command. She must be the sorceress the rumours are referring to,” he continues.

Arthur runs a hand through his face. “Cenred had been amassing an army and attacking our patrols for the past few months. There’s no question that they outnumber us,” Arthur pauses for a moment. “And overpower us. They have one… two sorceresses on their sides,” he continues, bitterness filling his voice.

“How did you find out about the enchantment?” Merlin asks, raising his eyebrow at the mess that Arthur made but didn’t complain about it. His manservant starts to pick the scattered clothes and efficiently folding them, placing them back to the cupboard.

“Gaius helped me. We found out it was a mandrake root that was causing his visions. I burned it once Morgana returned it under the bed.”

Merlin freezes. “You… you caught Morgana?”

“Yes,” he says, the word sounding flat to his ears.

Merlin is suddenly in front of him. Arthur looks up, meeting Merlin’s terrified eyes. “Does she know that you caught her?” 

Arthur shakes his head. “No.”

Merlin lets out a sigh of relief and turns back again to resume his chore. Arthur spots a dark, reddish stain at his manservant’s back. He abruptly stands up, recognizing the blood. “You’re injured!” he exclaims, grabbing Merlin’s wrist.

Merlin tries to yank his wrist from Arthur’s grip. “Leave it. I’m fi−“

“Stay still, idiot!” Arthur snaps, pulling the jacket as carefully as he can while also repressing his urge to box his manservant’s ears. “Who did this to you?!”

“I’m fine. It’s already healed,” Merlin calmly answers but raises his arms a little so that Arthur can take his jacket off. He throws it on the floor, ignoring Merlin’s protests.

There’s a tear at the midsection of the tunic, surrounded by a stain contrasting the colour of Merlin’s tunic. Stomach churning, he sits back down again by the window, gently grabbing Merlin’s hips. He pulls Merlin between his legs and raises the tunic again, forcing Merlin to take it off. Merlin clutches the tunic to his front.

Arthur is briefly stunned at the wide expanse of pale, smooth skin. His eyes then focus on the round, pink scar on Merlin’s upper back, as wide as his fingerbreadth, surrounded by short thin greenish veins.

“Serket sting,” he mumbles, both in awe and horror. Arthur knows about it. No one gets stung by a serket and lives to tell the tale. He removes his gloves and places them beside him before he slowly touches the skin around the scar. “Does it still hurt?”

“No. I told you I'm fine. It's already healed,” Merlin says, annoyed.

“How? The venom is enough to kill a man instantly!” Arthur feels the muscles tense under his touch.

“Err… Uhm… the dragon healed me,” Merlin whispers. Arthur pauses in his touch. “I thought he’s banished from Camelot?” Arthur asks carefully.

“He’s not allowed to harm.”

“And how did the dragon find you?”

“I called him.”

He turns Merlin around, his hands on Merlin’s waist, and glares up at him. “Tell me what happened from the moment you followed Morgana.”

Merlin thickly swallows. “Morgana met with Morgause in the woods. They talked about Cenred’s army and Uther’s mind. Morgana then told Morgause that I already suspect her before they captured me. She must have noticed that I was following her.” Arthur unknowingly tightens his grip. “Morgause chained me and left me in the forest. And… err… the serkets arrived. I called the dragon because I couldn’t free myself.”

Anger flares in his system in an instant record. “Are you saying me they left you there to die?” he growls out. Morgause has done nothing but harms everyone in Camelot. He’s going to wring that neck of hers with his bare hands, lady or not. 

Merlin steps out from his grasp and wears his tunic. “You need to sleep,” Merlin says, dismissing the topic. Arthur runs a hand in his face, frustrated at Merlin’s lack of self-preservation and tact. “You’re expecting me to sleep when everything is going to hell?!” he snaps at him.

“Have you seen yourself? You look horrible. And as much as it appalls me, you’ll need a clear mind to think properly,” Merlin answers, unfazed, crossing his arms to his chest. He had the gall to look at Arthur as if he’s disappointed.

“I could have you flogged for that.”

“I know. But you still need rest.”

Arthur sighs. Merlin’s right. He needs rest. He’s too exhausted that he can barely think straight. “Even if I want to, I can’t sleep.”

“You will. Come on,” Merlin grabs his hands and tries to pull him up, but Arthur didn’t budge from his seat. His manservant frowns and tries again, his face reddening in effort. Arthur fights a smile, pushing his legs against the floor harder.

“Are you even trying?” he teases, and Merlin glares at him. Merlin tries to pull again, and Arthur let his body relax. Merlin lets out a squeak, surprise at the lack of resistance and stumbles backwards. Now, it’s Arthur turn to pull him, putting more force than necessary.

Merlin loses his balance and falls to Arthur. Arthur can feel the puffs of breath in his neck, the warmth covering his body. Arthur grins when Merlin looks up to him and gives him the stink eye.

He lets Merlin pull away. “As graceful as a fawn,” he teases, hiding his brief disappointment and confusion on why he’s disappointed when Merlin steps away. The insolent fawn just rolls his eyes at him and pushes him towards the bed.

Arthur lets him fuss. At their familiar banter, everything seems insignificant. He’s grateful that for a brief moment, he doesn’t have to worry about anything.

Of course, he will not let Merlin know about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me a while to update the story. I was overthinking about this chapter, whether to include some scenes from the show or not. In the end, I just included the ones that I had a revision since it seems redundant to write a scene if there's no change whatsoever.
> 
> It was hard for me to write this chapter because I feel sad remembering some of the scenes in the episodes. 
> 
> Thanks for the lovely comments by the way. I don't know how to reply to each of the comments (because I'm a bit emotionally stunted as well) but I want you to know that I love your feedback. Thanks for the support!


	13. fight on two fronts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cenred's army arrives at Camelot, Arthur realizes something crucial, Guinevere being a cinnamon roll, and Merlin unknowingly decides their path.

Gwen is getting increasingly worried for Morgana. It must have been hard for her, being whisked away like that. Morgana never talked to her about her capture, and Gwen doesn’t want to imagine the horrors that Morgana have been through.

Gwen has always considered Morgana as a dear friend of hers. Morgana never made her feel the difference in their statuses, sometimes even sharing her passionate opinions on the importance of treating people equally.

There are times that Gwen suspects that Morgana is not only referring to the treatment of the lords to the servants. This suspicion only grew when Morgana risked her life on saving the druid boy.

Nevertheless, she is loyal to Morgana. Morgana had nothing but kind to her, and the lady even stood up for her in front of the king. The gesture is forever engraved in the maidservant’s heart.

When Morgana returned after a year of her disappearance, Gwen almost wept in joy. Morgana, however, has been distant, Gwen not being fooled by the warm smiles that the lady gives her.

She has known Morgana for years. Gwen can see that she’s only putting up an expression in front of everyone, including her. Maybe her capture still haunts her, Gwen thinks.

Some wounds could only be healed with time.

Gwen quietly enters Morgana’s chambers, carrying a fresh change of sheets. On top of the bundle in her arms are yellow daffodils she picked on her way to her mistress’ chambers. To her surprise, she spots Morgana already awake and dressed, standing by her bedside and staring at a small hand mirror in her hand.

“Morgana?” Gwen calls out. Morgana’s head snaps to her. Gwen almost takes a step back, the chills crawling up to her spine when she meets Morgana’s eerily cold eyes. Recognizing Gwen, Morgana’s face splits to a small smile, lowering the hand mirror.

“Are you alright?” Gwen carefully asks.

“I'm alright," Morgana answers, placing the mirror on the nightstand as her eyes drift to the flowers. Gwen put the sheets on the table. “Something to cheer you up,” she says, holding out the bundle to her.

“They look lovely,” Morgana says softly as she walks towards her and accepts the flowers. “Thank you, Gwen.”

Gwen brightens. “I’ll put them in the vase for you,” she says. Morgana gives the bundle back to her, and Gwen goes to the nightstand. She pulls out the wilted daisies from the vase and puts the new flowers.

A small ripple from the mirror catches her attention. Frowning, she stares at it, wondering if she saw wrong. When it didn’t do anything unmirror-like, she shrugs it off and turns back to Morgana, who’s already standing by the window.

“You look tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?” Gwen carefully asks as she starts replacing the pillowcases. Morgana shakes her head, her hand rubbing the bracelet on her wrist.

“I had enough of it last night,” she answers, her voice strangely clipped. Morgana turns her back to her. Gwen bites her lip. Everything that has been happening is not helping, only adding to Morgana’s worries.

She’s not the only one. The city is awash with rumours about the king, most of them exaggerated. The air in the castle has been tense, and the news of a brewing war didn’t help the matter at all. 

“I’m here if you need me,” she sincerely says. Morgana didn’t answer, her focus sharp on something beyond the window.

~~~~~

Arthur declares a siege.

The prince already made his decision before the knights even came back from their patrol.

Merlin, impressed and a little overwhelmed by the details, tried not to stare as Arthur and the knights finalize their plans for the fortification of the city. Merlin’s knowledge about the war is limited to the stories he heard from the elders in his village. Whether those stories are exaggerated or not, one thing he’s sure of is he definitely doesn’t want to be caught in the middle of it.

Surprisingly, Merlin didn’t combust on his spot as Morgana, whose face instantly crumples the moment she sees Merlin alive and well, spends the rest of her time staring daggers at him. Merlin valiantly ignores her for the rest of the planning.

Merlin trails after Arthur once the meeting ended. “Is there no peaceful way to resolve this?” he mumbles under his breath, watching the people in the square carrying arrows to the rampant and some of the knights preparing to ride out to warn the outlying villages.

The question is useless because he already knows the answer. He knows from experience how people suffer because of the greed and pettiness of their leaders.

“What was that?” Arthur asks.

“Oh. Nothing. I’m just impressed. You did well back there. We're talking siege engines, and battering rams, and catapults. You made a tough decision he... you're risking hundreds of...”

Arthur abruptly stops and turns to him. “Do you know what?”

“What?”

“I'd really prefer it if you just kept quiet in these situations,” Arthur snaps at him. Merlin arches his eyebrow at him. “I am just trying to help.”

“Well, you're not,” Arthur answers grumpily, his face sourer than a lemon. Realization dawns on Merlin when he hears the thinly veiled nervousness in the prince’s voice. “I know you don't mean that. You're just worried. But you don't need to be. Look what we've got.”

“What?”

“You and me,” Merlin grins at him. “I'm going to be at your side, like I always am, protecting you.”

“God help me,” Arthur despairs, only betrayed by the flicker of fondness in his eyes.

Not even an hour passed after he separates from Arthur someone grabs him and pulls him into an alcove. Morgana’s eyes are positively blazing, her sharp nails digging into his skin painfully.

“I don't know how you managed to escape, but I do know one thing. If you breathe a word of what you saw, I will make your life a very short and painful one,” Morgana smiles sweetly before she continues, “Just think how Uther would react if he learned that a serving boy had tried to poison his beloved ward.”

By the time Merlin recovers from the shock, Morgana is already walking away.

~~~~~

The people streaming inside the castle are increasing, carrying things that they couldn’t leave behind. Arthur has put some of the senior knights in-charge to oversee their settlement. He has sent a word to the druids a night before, warning them to stay out of Cenred’s way.

He just hopes that they’ve already found somewhere to hide before the invading army spots them, feeling sorry that they can’t take shelter here in the citadel.

Arthur stares at the parchment containing the latest supply count. He can’t concentrate, his mind drifting off on how are they going to face Cenred. They can handle the army, but Arthur doesn’t know what Morgause and Morgana are capable of.

Merlin also has magic, but Arthur will never ask Merlin something that will risk exposing his secret.

Arthur drops the parchment and runs a hand on his face. He doesn’t know anything about magic. He often relies on Merlin’s and Gaius’ expertise. Now that he thinks about it, it’s usually their ignorance that usually brings them trouble.

As soon as this is over, he’ll try to learn more about it. Maybe he can borrow some books from Gaius. Arthur grimaces at the idea. He had never been fond of books.

A knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. “Come in,” he calls out, arranging the papers on his desk and leans back to his chair. Arthur straightens when Guinevere appears in the doorway.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” she stammers out, uncertain, still hovering by the doorway.

“No. Come in, please,” he says as he stands, walking around and sits on the desk.

“How is your father?” Gwen asks as she approaches. 

“I could do with him here,” he admits, crossing his arms to his chest.

“You should have more faith in yourself,” she gently says to him. Arthur averts his eyes, suddenly finding the floor interesting. “What are the people saying?” he asks, a little afraid of the answer.

“They are glad that you have taken charge.”

“I've committed them to a siege,” he says, glancing at her. “There's going to be casualties, Gwen.”

Gwen steps forward. “I trust you, Arthur,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “More than Uther. More than any man. Worry is not a wise counsel. Forget everything else. You have to follow what you believe is right.”

He tenses at the contact. Instead of comfort, guilt floods into his system. She must have seen something in his face that Gwen abruptly steps back. “I should go, sire,” she quickly walks away.

“There's no need to call me that,” he hastily says.

Gwen turns around for a brief moment and gives him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “There is every need, sire.”

The sound of the door closing seems louder in his ears. In the past, Gwen used to plague his thoughts, even in the most inconvenient times. But he had completely forgotten about her. How is that even possible? Arthur groans, burying his face in his hands. He still cares about her, of course, but… it’s not the same anymore.

Arthur shakes his head. Does it really matter? If he will ever marry in the future, it will be for the kingdom. He doesn’t have the say on it, feeling the weight of his role is heavier than usual.

Merlin suddenly barges into the chambers, wide-eyed and breathless. “He’s awake.”

~~~~~

Merlin stands beside Gaius, trying to catch his breath while the physician does his usual check-up routine. Arthur sits by the bedside, his eyes not leaving the king.

“What is going on?” the king asks, blinking in confusion at the worried faces of the people surrounding him.

“You’ve been enchanted, sire,” Gaius says gravely.

“Cenred’s army is marching towards Camelot. We are preparing for a siege,” Arthur adds. Merlin winces, unsure whether it’s the right thing to say to a bedridden patient.

A few moments of silence passed before the king tries to sit up. “I need to fight.” Arthur immediately tries to stop him, pushing the king back to his bed as gently as he could.

“Your majesty, you need to rest,” Gaius says.

The king slaps Arthur’s hands as a parent would do to a child when they got their hands in a cookie jar. “This is my kingdom!” he shouts back.

“You're not well,” Arthur pleads, removing his hands.

“I will not hide while my people fight!” he shouts again, successfully sitting up. Gaius shakes his head at the stubbornness of the king, wearing an expression that Merlin could only interpret as worried and slightly irritated.

“You are in no condition to fight, your highness,” Merlin says. The king glares at him, and Merlin fights the urge to sink into the floor. He’s awfully been getting a lot of hatred these past few days.

"You must rest, father. When you're well again, you will still have a kingdom,” Arthur says, the seriousness in his voice enough to draw the king’s attention back to him. “I will not let you down.”

While Arthur, Merlin and Gaius deal with the stubborn king, Morgana watches the knights run around, delivering weapons to the battlements. She pulls up her hood before she slips away into the night.

~~~~~

Cenred’s army arrives by nightfall.

Merlin quietly tells Arthur it’s time. He gives one last look at his father, who’s now sleeping because of the drug that Arthur slipped in his father’s drink earlier. It was unforgivable, how his father drugged him when Arthur was supposed to be the one to fight the black knight.

Oh, how the tables have turned. Arthur still thinks the action is unforgivable, but he understands his father a little better. Arthur will do anything to keep his father and his people safe.

Merlin is quiet as he helps Arthur wear his armour. It’s almost unnerving how his manservant efficiently doing his task. The atmosphere is heavy and tense, and Arthur can taste the fear in the air.

Merlin visibly winces at the sharp sound of leather rubbing on metal. “Sorry,” Merlin mumbles, adjusting the strap to loosen the vambrace strap on Arthur’s arm.

“It's not like you to get nervous, is it, Merlin?” Arthur playfully says, but the words fall flat in his ears. 

“I'm not nervous,” Merlin answers, turning around briefly to grab Arthur’s sword on the table.

“No?”

“Because I trust you,” Merlin answers smoothly, handing the sword to Arthur with two hands.

Arthur’s heart clenches violently at the words. He dumbly stares at Merlin, stunned by the unwavering confidence and trust in his manservant’s voice. He carefully takes the sword from Merlin, while Merlin just stands there as if he didn’t just say the most ridiculous thing ever.

Admission forms at the back of his mind. Arthur can call it ridiculous as much as he wants, but he can never deny how those words pierced through him.

An epiphany follows. A realization that Arthur has never expected. Scared by the thought, Arthur squelches it, stomping the proverbial small fire on his mind again and again until it dies. 

Mistaking Arthur’s horrified expression, Merlin continues. “It is your fate to be the greatest king Camelot has ever known. Your victory today will be remembered by every age, until the end of time. Just trust in yourself.”

Arthur is momentarily pulled out from his panic. “There are times, Merlin, when you display a sort of... I don't know what it is. I don't want to say... it's not wisdom,” he says. Merlin raises an eyebrow at him, and Arthur sighs.

“But, yes. That's what it is,” he adds.

Merlin smiles, and that proverbial fire rekindles, roaring and _blazing_ and back with a vengeance. Arthur swallows thickly. “Don't look so pleased. The rest of the time you're a complete idiot,” he stammers stupidly and ~~runs away~~ heads to his men, fighting the urge to punch himself for losing his concentration on the battle ahead.

The sound of the familiar footsteps echoes behind him, and he didn’t have to look back to know that Merlin is following him. As they get nearer the Square, Arthur starts to get his bearing. But one question lingers.

When did he start looking at Merlin like _that_?

Arthur sobers up when he sees the grave expressions of the knights. Arthur once again pushes away all of his unnecessary thoughts out of his mind. There’s still a war to win, and he can’t afford to be distracted. After all, no one can fight on two fronts.

~~~~~

“For the love of Camelot!”

Merlin never leaves his eyes on Arthur, his heart pounding, his magic thrumming under his skin. Arthur leads the men to the barricade in the lower town, the deafening sound of swords unsheathing and war cry mingling with their enemies fill the air.

Fire rains throughout the city as their enemies, clad in black, breaks through the gate and start to push through the barricade. Merlin starts cursing to himself when Arthur pushes through the front line. Merlin picks up a sword on the ground and tries to follow him through the river of red.

The knights hold their position. Men who manage to slip into the barricade are quickly struck down.

“You need to get back!” An old knight shouts and angrily pushes him back. Merlin stumbles backwards, ready to make another attempt but then spots a giant ball of fire coming towards their direction.

“ _Færblæd wawe_ ,”

Merlin takes a step forward, glaring at the ammunition that’s about to hit them in few seconds if he didn’t stop it.

“ _Færblæd wawe!_ ”

Merlin feels his magic work, the gust of wind strong enough to push the ammunition. It drops on the enemies, all of them reeling as it explodes, Merlin instinctively covering his eyes with his arms. The explosion takes out several men on the other side.

An overwhelming wave of enemies appears, unfazed by the horrendous scene that happened just now. They step on the scorched men and the remains of a fire on the ground, swords in the air. Merlin magically trips another person and glances at Arthur to make sure that he’s alright.

“Hold the line!” Sir Leon shouts, cutting through the noise.

“You need to go back, sire.”

Merlin’s head snaps in Sir Leon’s direction, finding the Uther brushing off Sir Leon. He didn’t know what came over him, but the next thing he knows he’s standing in front of Uther, blocking the fuming king.

“Sire, please. You’re still recovering,” Merlin pleads.

“You dare stand on my way?!” Uther snarls, his face contorting in anger, and Merlin braces himself to get stabbed. Instead, he pushes Merlin in Sir Leon’s direction and marches towards the barricade.

Sir Leon stares at him, his eyes wide. “Are you wishing for a death sentence?” Sir Leon asks him incredulously, but before Merlin can answer, Sir Leon barks another chorus of orders to the knights.

It didn’t take long when he sees Arthur dragging Uther, an arrow on the king’s leg.

“Pull back! Retreat!” Arthur shouts to his men. The knights quickly help the injured ones, retreating to the citadel while the enemy throws themselves over the barricades.

“ _Forbærnen_ ,” he whispers, the spell coming out barely audible but firm. A wall of fire forms in front of the group of men, blocking them. Merlin rushes to help Arthur, throwing one of the arms of the king over his shoulder.

They pause near the well. Uther braces himself to the well, telling Arthur that they need to keep the citadel safe. Arthur crouches, answering before he pulls the arrow out of the king’s leg. Merlin winces and the king shouts in pain. Arthur stands back up and gives Merlin a silent command through his eyes.

“I will not let you down, father,” Arthur solemnly says to Uther before rushing back to the gate. Merlin quickly grabs Uther’s arm again, helping the king make his way back to the castle.

“I’m the king, and you’re just a servant. You have no right to tell me what to do, yet you still tried to stop me. Why?” Uther asks, grunting while limping. Merlin hides his surprise at the sudden question and focuses on supporting the king’s weight on each step of the staircase.

He doesn’t really know how to answer that. Maybe the world will be a better place with Uther dead, but Merlin doesn’t want to cause Arthur pain. Losing a parent is something that he never wishes for anyone to experience.

“Everyone is a patient in a physician’s eyes, sire,” Merlin answers instead, glad to have the _I-am-the-physician’s-apprentice_ excuse.

Merlin drops the king to one of the cots, and the servants immediately tend to him. He starts to panic when doesn’t see Gaius anywhere.

Gwen appears in the hallway, carrying bandages. “Where’s Gaius?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

Merlin bites his lip, roaming around the makeshift hospital. His knees almost buckle in relief when he sees Gaius emerge on one of the corridors.

The relief didn’t last long.

“Morgana’s disappeared.” 

~~~~~

Arthur doesn’t know how long the fight will last. It already feels like ages. A knight goes down, and Arthur goes to his side, stabbing an enemy as he tries to climb up the battlement. He helps the injured knight up, and they head to the Square.

“Take him to the hospital,” Arthur says as he hands the wounded soldier to others.

Merlin comes down from the staircase, looking utterly lost. Alarm bells start to ring on Arthur’s mind.

Merlin’s attention is suddenly on him. “Arthur! Look out!” he shouts. Arthur turns just in time to block a strike. His eyes widen, fear filling his blood as he stares at his new enemy.

While Arthur spends his precious time trying to comprehend that he's fighting an animated skeleton, the skeleton charges. Arthur instinctively parries its attack. The skeleton skillfully tries again, but Arthur, who doesn’t really understand what the hell is going on but he knows that he needs to defeat it, waits for an opening.

He stabs between the ribs, and Arthur realizes that the attack will only work on a living person because the skeleton is undeterred. The skeleton advances again, and Arthur aims for the neck. He cuts the skull off from the rest of the bones.

At the corner of his eyes, he sees Merlin falling on the ground while another skeleton walks menacingly towards his manservant.

He’s instantly on Merlin’s side, decapitating the skeleton. Its skull rolls to the ground, but the rest of its body continues to attack Arthur. He slashes again, separating it from the rest of the limbs. His efforts seem all for nothing, the severed parts moving on its own.

Arthur stomps an arm crawling towards him. He’ll _pulverize_ this fuc−

“This must be the strong magic that I felt earlier,” Merlin says, pulling Arthur out of his rage, horrified at the rest of the skeletons making their way towards the castle.

“We need to seal off the hospital,” Arthur says, a little breathless and coming back to his senses.

“I’m going to find the enchantment,” Merlin says at the same time. Arthur glares at him. “ _We_ ’ll going to find it,” Arthur says, pushing Merlin towards the staircase.

“They need you here!”

“Damn it, you’re not going alone this time! Wherever the cause of this, it’s not going to be unguarded. You’re going to get yourself killed!” Arthur snaps at him. A skeleton appears again from the corner and attacks.

“Merlin!” he shouts when Merlin scampers off, blocking an attack.

“I’ll stop it!” Merlin shouts before he disappears from Arthur’s sight. “Idiot!” Arthur shouts in frustration as he dismembers the skeleton, kicking the parts as far as he could.

Arthur runs to the hospital, some of the servants already moving to seal the hospital. He stalks towards Gaius as soon as he sees the physician.

Arthur hears Gwen gasp. “You’re hurt!” She tries to reach out to him, but Arthur pulls Gaius to the side. “Where is he?!”

“In the burial crypts. Arth−“

Arthur didn’t hear the rest of Gaius’ words, already rushing his way towards the crypts. Gaius can only watch Arthur disappear before he goes back to helping the injured, oblivious to the fact that Gwen grabs a sword and follows Arthur.

~~~~~

“I have magic, Merlin. Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?”

“You of all people could change Uther's mind, but doing this? Using magic like this will only harden his heart.”

“You don't have magic, Merlin. How could you hope to understand?”

_I have magic._

“I do understand, believe me. If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be for. That's why you were born with these powers.”

Morgana scoffs at him. “You don't know what it's like to be an outsider. To be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are. Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?”

_I’m sorry._

“No. It doesn't have to be like this. We can find another way,” he pleads. Morgana only shakes her head, raising her sword. “There is no other way,” she says icily.

Hearing those words, along with the cold determination in Morgana’s eyes as she grips her sword tighter is like a punch to the gut.

Merlin knows what it feels like to be scared and confused of who you are. In those quiet nights in Ealdor, he often wondered if he’s a monster. But ever since he came to Camelot, he still lived in fear but there are now people who know his magic and accepts him.

Morgana had none. Not until Morgause came.

He should not have lied to her. He should have revealed his magic to Morgana when she was scared and alone in this castle. He should have been there _for_ her.

There’s nothing he can do to change the past.

_“She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love.”_

_She’s misguided,_ he reasons out to himself. Her words are her own, but her intentions have been influenced by Morgause.

“Morgana,” he starts while he takes a step forward. Merlin should have seen the strike coming. He shouts in pain as a searing red line paints his torso.

Merlin dodges another attack, eyes stinging at the burn of the slice.

Kilgharrah said that seeing goodness in people will be his undoing. Well, maybe the dragon is right because Merlin has no intention of giving up on her.

Morgana will not be convinced by words. He needs to show her. He needs to prove that this is not what she truly wants, that she’s only acting out of fear-turned-to-hate.

To do that, he needs to save Camelot first.

And so, Merlin raises his sword, staring at Morgana, and whatever expression he’s wearing caused a flicker of uncertainty in her face.

 _No one can escape destiny? Then the Gods can witness Morgana be the first one to do so._ Merlin thinks before he lunges for the staff.

~~~~

Gwen bunches the skirt up, following the rushed footsteps. She’s frightened, but she can’t stay still after seeing Arthur panic.

“Merlin!”

The sound of urgency in Arthur’s voice makes her run, her heart pounding heavily on her chest. She arrives at the entrance of the crypt.

“Snæde!” Merlin shouts as he strikes a glowing staff on the centre of the sea of coffins. Her blood runs cold, freezing at her spot when Merlin’s eyes turn to liquid gold.

The staff breaks, the glow disappearing as the other half drops to the floor. Merlin drops to his knees, using the sword as support. Arthur, who’s back turned to Gwen, rushes to Merlin.

“You’re injured,” Arthur says, crouching beside Merlin, worry colouring his voice. Gwen finally notices the blood staining Merlin’s front.

“I’m fine,” Merlin rasps out.

“Fine?! You’re bleeding!” Arthur tries to haul Merlin up.

“She’s over there,” Merlin says, briefly pointing in the direction of a pile of rubbles, his eyes already drooping.

“She can’t stay here, not when she’s causing all of this,” Arthur says.

“Arthur, she’s lost. We can still help her,” Merlin adds, his voice soft.

Gwen follows the direction. She’s unable to stifle her gasps as she sees an arm and a familiar-looking bracelet.

Gwen stares back again at the two men in front of her. The two men stare back at her, horrified. Arthur slowly stands up, and Gwen grips the hilt of her sword in fear. “Guinevere,” Arthur calls out to her.

“S-stay back!” Gwen shouts, raising her sword and glancing at Merlin as he clutches his stomach. Arthur stops from his track.

“Y-you… Y-you ha-have…” she stammers out. Merlin closes his eyes as he gives Gwen a small nod.

Gwen feels her heart shatter at the admission. Magic. Merlin has magic. No one says anything,

“Magic is not evil,” Arthur says.

She stares at Arthur in disbelief. “What?”

“Merlin is not evil,” Arthur says again. She blinks at the confusion, realizing that she misheard Arthur’s words earlier. She associated Merlin with magic, and now she associated him with _evil_.

“He stopped the undead army. We owe him our lives,” Arthur continues. Gwen stares at the two of them in shock.

“Morgana…” she starts, but the hurt in both of the men’s eyes made her stop.

“Morgana is the traitor,” Arthur says, pained. Gwen drops the sword, the fight leaving out of her. “How?” she asks, tears forming in her eyes.

“Morgana enchanted the king. She summoned the undead army,” he says, glancing at the pile of rubble. Silence fills again the crypt, the coldness seeping and making its way through her heart. For the second time, her break shatters. Summoned?

Arthur waits as Gwen connects the dots. “She… She also has…” Gwen can’t bring herself to finish her sentence. Arthur swallows thickly before he nods. “She’s changed, Gwen. She’s not the same person that we grew up with,” Arthur whispers.

“And Merlin?” she asks. “It changed Morgana. What makes you think it will not change him?” she asks, feeling guilty after seeing the hurt on Merlin’s face.

“He’s different,” Arthur answers quickly and pauses for a moment before continuing. “My father is wrong. The death of my mother caused all of this. His grief turned to hatred, and it has blinded him,” Arthur quietly says.

Merlin groans in pain. “Merlin!” Arthur skids back to Merlin, catching him before Merlin falls to the ground.

 _Merlin. It’s Merlin._ Gwen says to herself. She can never imagine Merlin hurting people. He has nothing but kind, and Merlin always sacrifices himself for the betterment of others. But she also thought the same to Morgana. Her mind is telling her to run and tell the king.

Seeing the pure, genuine concern on Arthur’s face as he checks Merlin's wound, and recalling the conversation earlier that Morgana was just lost, makes her heart decides otherwise. They’re her friends. Her family. She trusts them.

She steels herself, hoping that she’s right about her decision, and walks towards them. Arthur looks up to her while Merlin struggles to keep his eyes often. “What can I do to help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've ever written so far. I can finally move on from the tears of Uther Pendragon episodes. The two episodes broke my heart, seeing how Morgana turned evil. Well, it's only on the show. I'll never accept it. *post-merlin depression intensifies*
> 
> Anyway, I really want to show a butterfly effect of the choices. I just hope I do it justice. 
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments! I actually wrote this story to cure my post-merlin depression. I'm glad that people are reading this.


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